Adventure Time With Altaïr
by Mystic Blade
Summary: Vivian's life takes a turn for the odd when she wakes in 12th century Jerusalem with no logic to explain it all. When she's unwillingly dragged along for Altaïr's new adventure for the pieces of Eden with Malik, she'll travel the world to find her own scientific answers. What mayhem awaits Altaïr's Crusade? Facing deadly enemies and wildlife, the adventure never ends. Post-AC1
1. The Biggest Thing Since Boba Fett

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to the Assassin's Creed franchise except my OC creations.

CHAPTER 1

**The Biggest Thing Since Boba Fett  


* * *

**

"Out of business sale. Come one, come all."

"All sales are final."

"Comics, games, consoles, all must go!"

This caught the attention of a walking college student as she left the Barnes & Noble bookstore next door after buying a paperback about Arthurian legends and walked over to take a peek at the showcases. Apparently, the little comic book store was closing down and everything was on sale.

_I may be a notorious bookworm but I'm a gamer at heart_, she thought mischievously as the store drew her kid at heart inside and small black boots scuttled inside to explore what was left.

Her favorite and only console that she owned was the Playstation 3 platform and forsook the rest. Besides, college textbooks were expensive enough and as a double major in History and Psychology at UC Berkeley, she needed all the pennies she could spare. That's why she had bought her recent book in an 'on sale' pile of texts to build her personal library collection. Her father always instilled the love for the written word in his daughter and at twenty one, she aimed to gain all possible knowledge which is why the history of the world appealed to her along with the mysteries dwelling in the human mind itself.

Metal bins contained already discounted games and others stocked the white shelves according to each corresponding game console and her lips broke into a competitive grin. Time to nab some new games. With assertiveness that rivaled Ms. Pac-man, she wiggled through the crowds to nab any interesting action/RPG/and first shooter games she could find. Besides, if they weren't too interesting once played, EBay was only a click away.

After sorting through a bundle of ten, she narrowed them down to five because they would be worth half a year of entertainment and stress relief. Every college student needed a hobby to unwind with and hers was reading and gaming. Satisfied, she wandered past the consoles that people were sorting through (probably looking for that Rock Band stuff- not her style) and walked towards the back when her green eyes widened with a happy gleam.

_Oh my Gandalf_, she thought geekily and almost squeaked but remained nonchalant to the sight before her.

Life size character cut outs.

She passed by the fans mobbing for three Iron Man standees and laughed to herself when G1 Optimus Prime passed her by with its new ecstatic owner. Turning away, she tucked her games into the bent of her elbow and her jaw slackened when she saw the best character there in her opinion. No, not Solid Snake or Sub-Zero or Mario. Not even Halo.

The protagonist of Assassin's Creed, Altaïr Ibn. . .she couldn't pronounce the rest. A shame, really.

She stared awkwardly as four fans, three teenage girls and a boy, were fighting tooth and nail for an Ezio of AC II standee as obscenities and questions of the utmost fanatical were spouted. Everybody loves Ezio, apparently. Craftily, her feet scampered over quietly to the leftover standee that was surprisingly _not _receiving any attention and she sighed forlornly under her breath, "Hmm, I feel your pain, Altaïr. You started it all and yet they're fawning over the Italian heartthrob."

Her green eyes glanced down to several comic books she'd grabbed on her way in and darted over to the silent but oh so very realistic cut out to examine its condition. Hmm, she couldn't spend too much and to buy a standee like that would be about a hundred bucks at least since it was in mint condition. He was mocking her with that inconspicuous yet piercing assassin stare under the white hood as he pulled the strings on her sales resistance. It was practically talking to her, _'Why not take me? I'm far superior to comic books'._

'_Yeah, but comic books go up in value and my future kids can sell 'em.'_

'_And I won't go up in value? I'm freakin' Alta__ï__r Ibn-La'Ahad, the biggest badass since Boba Fett.'_

'_True, Boba Fett is pretty cool but-'_

'_Buy me!'_

'_But the comics-'_

'_You want another fan to buy me and probably dry hump me in their room?'_

'_Hmm-'_

She shook her head to burst the dream bubble and brushed back locks of black hair as she mumbled under her breath sardonically, "Gotta stop those imaginary conversations."

Movement was caught by her peripheral vision and she lunged herself at the assassin cut out, clutching it in her hands to fight back the oncoming curious fans with a protective snap, "Get away! He's mine!"

_They had the chance to nab Alta__ï__r and chose Ezio so too bad_, she thought smugly to her newfound treasure and was not letting it go. _Dad always said loyalty is a virtue._

Despite her petite height of 5'3, she lugged the large cutout as she tucked her chosen items under her arms until she reached the cashier's desk with a pant at why the damn thing was so heavy. How could cardboard be _that _heavy? It was paper! She ignored all of the stares aimed at her and simply pulled out her MasterCard from her handbag to pipe up perkily, "I'll pay by credit."

"All sales are final."

"Trust me, I won't regret it."

Minutes later, she found herself before her four door Honda sedan and thinned her lips to shoot a sidelong glare at the unmoving cut out next to her to mutter flatly, "Huh, I should've thought this through before I left the store."

_He won't fit in the trunk but I think he'll fit in the back seats_, she pondered thoughtfully and tapped her chin on the best technique to stuff the standee inside. _As long as his head doesn't stick out the window, he'll be fine. The last thing I want is a headless Alta__ï__r._

"Let's get you home" she murmured halfheartedly and hoped this purchase wouldn't come back to bite her in the butt with the sting of a thousand blades.

Vivian Shore would literally be sulking over this purchase within twenty-four hours.

* * *

A teenage girl of sixteen stared with an expression full of bewilderment as her older sister dragged in a towering standee that dwarfed her height and she was about to ask what in the world possessed her to buy it but Vivian beat her to it with a stern gaze.

"Shut it, I pay rent, my room- my assassin" she summarized simply and lugged in all of her purchases with a grunt. So much for buying a new outfit for her current internship at the Natural History Museums. Her younger dark-haired sister was about to add in her own opinion on the game and Vivian cut her off again, "No more about Ezio. I wouldn't be surprised if all his rampant fans formed a cult. Go daydream about him elsewhere."

Natalia scowled for the verbal hit to her favorite hero and shot back sarcastically, "Should I leave you and your cardboard boyfriend alone? He'll turn into mush once he touches water like in the game."

"Ha ha, very mature" the other said dryly with a flat short laugh to the retort and carried on her way as her curious sister threatened to follow with more embarrassing jokes. Seriously, the Altaïr melting in water joke was getting old. Vivian waved her hand to bat Natalia away and told her absentmindedly, "_Vete, ni__ñ__a del diablo_."

The younger Shore girl objected to both the shooing and name calling, "Hey, you're more of psycho than I am!"

Vivian simply pointed down the hallway without another word as she stood before the door of her bedroom since tuition was costly enough that she remained with her family while studying for her degree. Natalia pouted to being brushed aside as the middle child of the family and practically found no fun with her youngest sister of five, Penelope, who was into tea parties and all that bubbly stuff little girls loved while the oldest was nose deep in books. Vivian's face softened to her sister's attempt at bonding and remembered all that teenage angst and need to fit in when she was that age and sighed, "Okay, you got me. Here, I bought some new games."

She handed her sister the plastic white bag of goodies and smiled encouragingly, "Go, enjoy a killing spree and blasting zombie brains on the streets."

The teenager yanked the bag eagerly into her hands and headed to her room like a roadrunner while the other woman shook her head in amusement. That would keep Natalia busy for a few hours until their dad told them to stop before the radiation rotted their brains. She looked to the inanimate standee next to her and stated, "Now, let's find you a spot to fit in."

Half an hour later had earned the woman multiple bruises from falling over the standee as she switched it more than a dozen times. A multitude of colorful Spanglish language later and a sandwich break had the student glaring down the standee as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

_Even as a cut out, he manages to screw up my ideas_, she thought irritably and tapped her fingers over her chin as she analyzed every open area left in her room. The spot near the door had frightened Penelope and sent her crying about robed strangers, in between the dresser and bathroom door had knocked her down onto the wooden floor, leaving him before the window would fade the pristine color. . .he was definitely a conundrum.

"I call a study break on early Mediterranean history" she sighed aloud in defeat and stood up to head towards her bookcase filled with leisure and college books. Cracking her brain on Mesopotamia from its Neolithic to Late Antiquity Age was easier than finding a suitable spot for the enigmatic assassin.

Another hour later with an assurance to Penelope that no evil men in white robes were roaming through their house, Vivian stood back with hands on her hips as she analyzed the destined spot at the side of her nightstand and nodded with both satisfaction and intense relief, "Perfect. No sun to fade color, good view to block out streetlight glow, good pose to scare any peepers, and I can walk around without tripping into you. Altaïr, we're going to be the best of roommates."

_Unless Penelope remains frightened and then I'll be forced to put him in the garage_, she grimaced visibly at the horrible idea of the standee spending its days locked away in the dark. _If Toy Story taught me anything as a kid, it's to take good care of your belongings._

She plopped herself down on the bed to flip through her plastic box containing her first batch of favorite games and bit her bottom lip in concentration. Killzone 2- not in a blood frenzy mood today. Marvel Alliance- sorry Deadpool, no bullet barrages. Metal Gear Solid 4- hmm, Snake did have an Altaïr costume. . .but nah.

"I think I'll kill some Templars today to celebrate" she grinned goofily after her lucky buy in the gaming store and grabbed the game case with eager fingers. The Byzantine Empire and its religion would have to wait until later since class was in two days.

She turned back to look at the impassive form of the Altaïr cut out and grinned cheekily, _Hmm, if they posed him like Uncle Sam, he would form masses of clubs just by saying 'I want you for the Assassin's Order'._

* * *

Footsteps passed over the floor in Malik's new study and he lowered his writing quill from the book he'd been writing regarding his customized fighting techniques. Altair kept going on about new techniques he had glimpsed into by spending time with the Apple of Eden but Malik distrusted that thing entirely and wished the other man had cast it away into the deepest part of the Mediterranean Sea. He glanced up to see the newest Grand Master of the Assassin's Order enter the room and greeted casually, "What brings you here today? The map isn't done yet-"

"No need, I drew it today after breakfast on a cloth napkin so you can just transfer it onto paper" Altaïr informed simply and chucked a mustard colored cloth at the wooden desk so Malik could inspect his handiwork. He wasn't a scholar so he scribbled down whatever he could with a stick of charcoal before heading out to train in the courtyard. New recruits meant more ass kicking and spirit hardening; he'd received it on his first day as a novice and would keep the tradition going (no matter the sadistic pleasure he got from it).

Malik's brown eyes stared at the item before his left eyebrow twitched in bafflement to the mushed continents the assassin had outlined. How had the man traveled the land with that illogical sense of navigation? He'd left out the entire ocean to the west for heaven's sake. He grabbed an ink bottle nearby and tilted it down to pour the contents over the napkin to coat it completely in black to erase the hypocrisy of such amateur map making. The other man was about to snap at him for his rash actions but the dai pointed out simply, "This stabs all the decency in the profession of cartography. It would be best to leave it to the professionals, Altaïr."

The assassin began to argue the validity of his map but Malik beat him to it again by stating sharply, "I was there after your fight with Al Mualim and I saw the same map as well. You know my mapping skills far exceed yours so concede to my knowledge. . ." a grin graced his face as he mocked, "Besides, if anyone wanted to travel from Portugal to Morocco, there would not be water this wide separating them and your legend would actually lead them only to Seville."

He pulled out a rolled parchment and stretched it flat over the desk to show the other man his own detailed version which rivaled the currently widely used map of Muhammad al-Idrisi, from 1154, except Malik had managed to draw the continent of Africa correctly unlike Altaïr's version that resembled a deformed hen's leg. The assassin had to grudgingly accept the better description that contained an accurate legend rather than his little scribble of half a finger totaling 10 miles.

"I am a man of the blade, not the written word" he stated surly in his defense and crossed his arms to read the map upside down as Malik studied his own work. Dots littered the known locations the Apple of Eden had shown them regarding the other lost pieces. Altaïr noticed the other half of the hemisphere had not been drawn and brought it up, "Where is the other half that the golden sphere showed us?"

"What do you think I am? A conjurer? Analysis and sketching takes time, you impatient man" Malik shot back for having his work questioned rather than receiving a decent 'thank you' for making it. Altaïr really needed to work on his interpersonal skills. He was about to design a map that nobody in the world probably had any clue of and the credit would fall to him on its perfect accuracy while keeping its validity without any actual proof. The assassin owed him big time.

Altaïr's brown eyes narrowed to the remark on his personality flaw and he questioned simply, "Then what have you been doing?"

"Writing down the countries" he answered sharply and waved his fingers dismissively towards his inked cloth as if it were a diseased ridden thing. The corners of his mouth hitched into a smirk as he added in airily, "Something _you _failed to do. Have you forgotten how to write, Altaïr?"

The other remained silent without any emotion betraying his hooded face before asking coldly, "What can you tell me about the known locations?"

Bantering aside, Malik pointed to the east and explained, "Asia has most in the southeast coast while the rest are to the west of the African continent and western Europe. Others border the floating continent below Asia and its nearby islands and two are located on the one bordering the bottom of the map. I need time to finish writing the known cities below the Saharan Desert but I can tell you right now it will be a long travel if you expect to chase them down."

His fingers that held specks of lingering charcoal tapped against the wood as he pondered aloud, "That land mass on the western side is a mystery to everyone. It has not been discovered by man and we don't know if it really exists at all! It will take me a while to draw it but even I doubt you could swim your way over there. You can swim, can't you?"

Altaïr avoided the jest and pointed to the bottom of the African continent and the small ridge of land that covered the entire south end of the golden map. "What will we name them since they aren't discovered?"

"As the cartographer, I call Malik's Sovereignty on this one" he joked wittily and pointed to the bottom continent that had no ending. Altaïr gave him a flat stare devoid of emotion for the wisecrack and Malik laughed to rile him, "Come now, do not tell me Al Mualim sucked the last ounce of humor from your heart?"

Instead of another impassive stare and a cold remark of the tongue, the Grand Master surprised the dai.

"I call Altaïr's Empire on the entire western half from start to bottom and Altaïr II on the isolated one below Asia" the assassin stated as he nabbed most of the land and Malik objected to his little portion. That only fueled Altaïr's verbal claim about the unconquered lands but the secretive lives of the Assassins would prevent such governmental power but joking about it lightened the mood. He placed a finger under his chin to muse aloud, "I _could _conquer your tiny land but my personal jester deserves half-decent commodities."

Malik reached forwards to punch the man's chest for being called that of all things but the assassin dodged with fluid ease as he backed away with a mocking grin on his hooded face. He shook his index finger at him and reminded, "You can't kill the new Grand Master. Now, I am off for very important duties."

"What? Skewering mice on your blade?" the dai joked dryly and rolled up his map with a careful hand to tuck it back into its hidden spot until he left for Jerusalem. The new leader of their order kept going back and forth on where to lead the Assassins as he spent his time locked away in his bedchambers with the piece of Eden. This had been his third trip to Masyaf so far as he wondered whether Altaïr would decide to abandon the fortress for a more secretive headquarters or leave it as it was.

Altaïr scoffed to the ridiculous insinuation of slaughtering rodents even though he did use them for target practice during his youth and informed smugly, "No, if you must know, I am going to meet the newest students to our Order and welcome them."

Malik shook his head with a short laugh to the man's sudden enthusiasm and pointed out sarcastically, "You mean dress as a Templar and wander the grounds to randomly 'test' each of them without stopping their hearts from fright or crush their hand in a handshake and send them to the healers with a broken leg."

"I said I would welcome them, I didn't say _how_" the hooded man restated with a light smirk and turned to head out the doorway. Besides, he had to fit into a Templar outfit and recheck his hiding spots which he would jump out at the newbies from as they took the tour of Masyaf.

* * *

"Oh-ho, can't catch me you stupid guards" Vivian cackled evilly as virtual Altaïr leapt from one rooftop to another in Jerusalem while running from those idiot guards that randomly appeared in hoards if you weren't careful. If the game was real, she'd think they traveled in packs just looking for trouble.

A miscalculation later had him landing on a fat passerby in dark robes that cushioned the slim man's fall but also alerted the idiot guards yet again. She frowned when the assassin failed to climb a nearby wall and she growled, "Climb, damn you. What's the point of using R1 and X if you're not going to?"

A group of five guards suddenly ganged up on the poor assassin and she angled the camera view (which could be a little annoying sometimes) to make him abort the climb and hightail it out of there. Vivian could only make poor Altaïr run amok through the streets as civilians failed to get out of the way. Seriously, if you had an assassin running straight at you, you would run the other way and not gawk stupidly until he ran you down.

"Out of the way, beggar lady" she hissed as annoyance began to seep into her mind because those particular women just never left Altaïr alone and practically ruined the camouflage of his blending into the crowds. She'd had informant target assassinations ruined that way too many times to feel pity for them. Now, she had beggars _and _guards trailing after him with no ladders, boxes, or bales of hay in sight to escape. Vivian was near tears of anger as she huffed aloud, "All he did was save a citizen and this is the thanks? This is worse than Emperor Titus and his man vs. animal fights to the death in the Colosseum. Total crap."

A metal pole sticking out horizontally from a nearby building grabbed her interest and she pressed the buttons for the climb but Altaïr only hung limply from it without any momentum to climb any further. Seriously?

"Oh, come on! You're supposed to be a master acrobat" she cried aloud in exasperation and continued the run again as one blasted guard managed to slash him across the back. The assassin targeted the closest one but she forsook it to make him run down the dusty streets _again_. . .where one of those mentally ill men punched him across the face. She paused the game for a second to pinch the bridge of her nose before she got a headache from the embarrassing game play and growled irritably, "Argh, why do the gaming gods conspire against me?"

Inhaling three deep breaths, she calmed herself and continued onwards as she had to admire Altaïr's never-ending running stamina unlike the Grand Theft Auto games that eventually tired the main character. She almost cheered like a kid on Christmas when she saw a ladder and jumped off her bed at the same time Altaïr climbed quickly onto the rooftops with haste in his steps as she made him head towards the Bureau while hopefully trying to find a place to hide.

Her green eyes stuck close to the assassin while the tips of her fingers became sweaty from the adrenaline rush and pushed for Altaïr to jump from one tall rooftop to another below and-

He literally froze in midair.

She choked to create any words as the damn glitch appeared in the worst possible time and flung her control onto the blue carpet surrounding her bed (her father was adamant his children's feet never touch cold floors to prevent colds). Vivian's throat whined a strangled groan of disappointment to her failed quest before a scream of fury passed through vocal chords as her hands shook the television in a bout of frustration.

"Why must you ruin me?!"

Babble spouted from her mouth as she rattled every object connected to her game system and felt something sharp smack her from behind her head. On alert, she turned around to suspect one of her sisters had come in silently to partake in a prank but she only saw the standee falling towards her. A shout of alert escaped her mouth in surprise to why the hell it was there and her foot caught in the cables scattered around the floor. The sharp tug on her foot and the standee pressing down on her caused the poor woman to lose her balance and Vivian could only yell out a curse as the floor rose up to meet her. Her head smacked onto the side of the table propping up the television as her hands shoved it back to break her fall- horribly failing- while her left foot stepped on the system and slipped at an awkward angle onto the wooden floor.

She didn't know what hurt worse: the fact she'd have a fractured skull when she awoke, being frightened like a five year-old by inanimate cardboard, spazzing out like a hotheaded preteen, or the fact that she'd forgotten to renew her warranties on both the game system and the television.

Damn that sexy cardboard cut out.

* * *

**A/N**: I don't plan on retelling what everyone's played on their consoles of the AC games and decided to give Altaïr a whole new adventure by having him explore the world in search for the pieces of Eden and ass kicking Templars along the way with Malik, the sidekick (because he needs more attention than just being a side character and being cooped up in the Bureau). For some reason, the Indiana Jones theme song pops into my head with this adventure except Altaïr trades the fedora and whip for his traditional hood and hidden knife. And no, the OC will not fall madly in love with him (despite his smexiness) or vice versa. . .well, yet, anyway. . .because we need Maria to create future Desmond so that will be worked in later. The story will be slightly AU anyway. Unless you readers are anti-Maria then I don't know. For all that map making stuff, I've been researching the civilizations from back then and the Arab Empire under the Almohad Dynaty and Fatimids since the 13th century would have that takeover shift of power. I'm not a historian, it's not my forte, so I'm giving all I can since I'm very strict on research whenever I write a story. Thank goodness for the AC wiki as well.

Thanks for reading and leave your comment to know whether or not to continue this little story (it's not short, actually, according to my calculations). Next up will have Vivian believing 12th century Jerusalem is a coma induced figment and creates chaos in the streets as Altaïr tries to prove it's real.


	2. Down The Rabbit Hole

CHAPTER 2:

**Down The Rabbit Hole  
**

* * *

A gurgle of painful groans escaped Vivian's mouth as she woke up with direct sunlight striking her eyes and she raised a hand to cover them instantly with a wince, "Damn, where did dad take me? A doctor's backyard?"

The bright intensity of the light hurt her vision and she kept her eyes closed for a few moments to gather her bearings. Her fingers skimmed her forehead and hairline for the bump or cut she expected from the hard impact but found none. That. . .was. . .eerily strange. By all medical logic, she should be suffering from a concussion at least from the blunt strike to the temple. Her leg didn't even hurt and she was sure it had bent at a pretty bad angle when she fell over her gaming console. Damn standee. She blinked repeatedly to bring her current surroundings into focus and found an arch of brown stone above her head that was attached to a wooden door to the left as she lied on the place's doorstep. What the-?

Green eyes narrowed as her palms lied flat on the floor and felt the graininess of stone as well under her fingertips. Okay, now things were getting even stranger. Most doorsteps nowadays were made of cement. Was that the case then? Had she unknowingly been dumped on some random person's doorstep? She knew her sisters liked to pull pranks on her but even _this _was too extreme for her siblings. If at all, they should've been nearby with questions about it. Propping onto her elbows to manage a steady sitting position, her back rested on a wall and she carefully gazed at where she currently was.

At that moment, she actually wished her sisters _had _dumped her at a neighbor's house because this was completely impossible. People in linen and cotton robes of neutral/brown shades that were similarly worn in the parts of the Middle East walked by about their business as horses- _real _horses- carted materials or their owners on their backs. Men in old fashioned dusty armor with sharp swords strapped to their waists wandered between civilians and their frowning faces said they meant nothing but business.

This was not Berkeley.

_Oh crap, I hit my head harder than I thought_, Vivian thought miserably as horror struck her about this impossible sight before her. _There's no way I got dumped in a place of reenactment. . .do we even have those here? We don't even have horses!. . .So the only logical answer is that I'm stuck in a coma in. . .the Middle Ages?_

"Is this what my mind wanted?" she muttered incredulously and brushed her unruly hair back as she scanned the crowds with disbelief. The people simply went by about their business without a single stare her way and too natural for her liking. They weren't even acting as if this entire setting was out of place or even gawked at the farm animals like she was. If this was fake- she wasn't ruling reality out either- why did her mind stick her here of all places? She heaved a miserable sigh as her bangs covered her eyes with a slouching posture and grumbled, "Because if so, we're running on two different wavelengths. The 1940s in the US or the Medieval Age in Europe, Classical Greece or the Renaissance, all of that to choose from and I get _this_? What the hell _is _this?"

She managed to get a few stares from passerby's for her loud words but she didn't care. This was a fabrication of her imagination, right? To protect her mind from possible physical trauma she had endured from the fall? Whatever she did would have no effect on her real body and if she was indeed stuck in a damn coma somewhere, she would explore this make believe world. What else could she really do? If her mind created false characters here, whoever lived inside the house would give her rear end the boot.

With a grunt of irritation, she stood up from whomever's doorstep she was on and dusted off her pants. . .wait, why wasn't she wearing pants anymore? Her throat muffled a whimper when she saw her clothes weren't her own and donned a familiar set of white robes. White robes that could only belong to a certain assassin owned by a company called Ubisoft whom probably created that blasted standee that scared the hell out of her and put her here in the first place! Vivian ran her hands over the pristine white cloth that draped over her legs instead of the familiar feel of blue jeans and noticed that her bangs were covered by that damn white hood. So _this _was where her subconscious sent her?

"Oh my god, I'm in Assassin Land" she sighed in dismay as the sudden shock almost knocked her off balance and ran a hand down her face to hopefully fade away the sight before her. It always worked in dreams. Closing her eyes, she waited a few seconds before fully opening them to. . .the same old-fashioned town. Damn it! She almost cried in self-pity and fear for being lost in who knows where and why she was even there in the first place. Comas didn't blast you into game worlds or times of the past, they. . .actually, she didn't know what happened but she sure as hell knew this wasn't supposed to be Alice in Wonderland time!

Her fingers wringed the crimson sash on her waist as she blubbered inaudible gibberish under her breath to the situation. The whiny of a nearby horse broke the woman from her frozen stupor and she gulped nervously to what awaited her in this strange world. Would she remain stuck here forever or until she woke? Was she even in a hospital?

"I highly doubt this is heaven" she muttered dryly and nabbed another batch of stares for her private ramblings. Okay, the staring was growing incredibly annoying and she shot them a glare for it but the hood covered up most of it. She pulled it down to demand sharply, "What? You've never seen a woman talk to herself? It's therapeutic."

They scuttled away with more hushed whispers and she stepped onto the dirt path to join the people walking throughout the city. Merchants called out from their wooden stalls to draw in potential customers as she passed by but kept her head down while wondering if she had money at all since her clothes weren't really hers. If she was expected to go all assassin on someone, they were horribly mistaken. A horse trotted by and she smiled at seeing a real life- well, conjured- animal and walked towards it with blind curiosity. Being a city child, she'd never seen live animals unless they were in a pet store or the zoo. She could see the glossy short strands of the stallion's brown hair and the air it whiffed around when its long black tail flicked the air towards her.

_Aren't you pretty_, she thought kindly and wanted to sneak in a pat to the animal's coat but before she could lean forwards, the horse crapped a load onto the ground below.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in horror as she jumped back before she got any of that on her clean clothes and watched in shock as people went on their path, not bothering to look if they were stepping in horse crap. Wasn't the owner supposed to pick that up?

_This world is all kinds of crazy_, she thought in disbelief and headed in the opposite direction as she checked her robes one last time for any splatters. _Note to self, don't touch anything._

She wandered the dusty streets with frightened eyes as people preached on a nearby platform about Saladin this and Saladin that while crowds dispersed deeper into the city (was it a city?) and others remained to trade with merchants. Vivian decided to stay in the open because anything could happen in the dark recesses of any rough-edged place. Soon, she found herself before a child being hassled by four guards and found it very cowardly for the obvious disadvantage. Being the headstrong person that she was, Vivian sauntered over to demand, "Why are you bothering that boy? Don't you think four grown men against a kid is a little. . .oh, I don't know, spineless?"

One acting as the macho headman spit on the floor next to her as she frowned distastefully at his appalling mannerisms and the man snapped, "The kid stole, he will pay the penalty with death."

She balked to the statement and laughed sardonically to mock, "Seriously? A kid steals and you end his life? What the hell kind of law is that? Haven't you people heard of rehabilitation-"

"You are a peasant and a woman, you have no say in the matters of men" he cut off sharply and unsheathed his sword to point it at her throat. His dark and bushy brows furrowed as he ordered threateningly, "Move along, wench."

She snorted dryly to his sexist remark and pointed out bluntly, "Right, like I'm really going to let you kill the kid. Besides, this is all crap in my mind so your stupid little toothpick sword can do nothing against me-"

Vivian batted the sword away like a mosquito but the man pointed it back at her again. She grit her teeth in annoyance and stated irritably, "I keep telling you that stupid thing won't do anything-"

The sword cut into her right shoulder and she cried out in surprise to the sensation of actual pain. Wasn't this place supposed to be _protecting _her psyche? As the guards turned their attention to the woman, the little boy used his small and thin size to escape into the darkness of the alleys behind him while Vivian faced all of them.

She placed a hand over the throbbing gash and bit her bottom lip in pain when her fingers came back with blood. Real, red liquid blood. _That _was not supposed to be happening. Trying to gather her wits about her, she negotiated nervously, "Why don't we forget the whole thing? I left some socks soaking in a bowl-"

"Infidel!"

"Ah, damn it!"

From above on a nearby rooftop, a white clad figure observed the incident below as he wondered if the person scrambling for cover really was an assassin or an impostor. . .a really, really stupid one. His brown eyes watched as the figure, obviously female from the length of hair, grabbed nearby rocks and fruits to hurl at the guards chasing her instead of using an actual weapon. Was it really that hard to pick up a sword and stab the men?

_Definitely an impostor_, Altaïr thought assuredly from his perch in the shadows and crossed him arms to watch the rest of this play out below him.

"Assassin!"

"I'm not an assassin!"

_Why am I even bothering yelling back? I'm giving away my position!_, she chastised herself for the stupid maneuver and practically pushed herself through the crowds that for some annoying reason, had gotten three times heavier.

The cut in her shoulder burned but she paid it no attention as she tried to find a ladder or stairway- anything to aid her escape! A sprint over a man's orange stand later had Vivian climbing the ladder next to the stand as people gawked at her and brought more attention to the escaping woman. Practically tripping over her own white robes, she made it to the rooftops and hightailed it to the most concealing area- a nearby haystack. If she was dressed the part, why not act the part? Quickly, she dove into the plush hay and almost groaned aloud in distaste to the thick smell as she settled inside to hide.

_How the hell does Alta__ï__r handle the smell in these things?_, she thought disgustedly as she pinched her nose to cover the heavy scent inside and held her breath when footsteps and black shadows hovered over the lucky haystack.

Vivian held her breath for the life of her and watched the yellow hay as the distorted shadows passed by with angry mutterings about her disappearance. She managed a faint smile when they left the vicinity and relief flooded her body as she was in the clear, almost imagining that little green triangle that popped up in the game. In hindsight, she should have waited a while longer just to make sure she was safe up there but the awful smell was bringing tears to her eyes in the hot afternoon sun.

"Blech!" she coughed aloud as she burst out from the hay, sprawling clumsily onto the floor to take deep lungful of clean odorless air. Shaking her head, she dusted off her clothes as she stood up to shudder visibly with a frown, "Ugh, I'm never going in one of those again."

The area before her was perfectly clear of any guards and she smiled triumphantly to herself, "Vivian- 1. Idiotic cliché guards- 0."

Unfortunately, she didn't see the impassive form of Altaïr sneaking up behind her and mindlessly turned around to meet the assassin face-to-face. Instantly, she put her hands up in defense and blurted in fright, "Oh, shit!"

Vivian blinked wildly to the familiar man before her that was everything she wasn't in official assassin garb and she gasped to exclaim breathlessly, "By Zeus' beard, it's you- Altaïr Ibn-whatever the rest is! You're in my fantasy land, I _knew _my mind wouldn't screw me over like this!"

"Have you been out in the sun too long? Who are you?" he asked forcefully with that cold bite of his and Vivian had to admit her crafty mind had him detailed perfectly down to the last note in voice.

"Is this where you interrogate me like all the other fan girls?" she asked with a cheeky grin as her attitude changed from frightened to amused. The man's expression remained indifferent and she scoffed confidently, "I can take whatever you dish out. You're just a figment of my rampant imagination."

"Did you get dropped on your head?" he asked awkwardly to the wild expression written all over her face and wondered if it was too late to back away from this interrogation. No! He _needed _to know how she knew his name and why she held assassin garb. She could be a Templar in disguise!

He grasped her arm tightly, cutting off the circulation from the grip, and demanded harshly, "Answer me."

"What are _you _going to do _me_?" she scoffed haughtily to his threat and giggled mentally in teasing afterthought, "What _are _you going to do to me?"

_No, just because he's fake doesn't give you fan girl power to rape the poor assassin_, her conscience advised sternly and her immature side pouted to the enforced rule.

_But it's my world and shouldn't you be looking for a way out?_, she shot back defensively while Altaïr stared at her varying facial expressions with a boggled mind.

_I think she's a little touched in the head_, he thought irritably and hoped this woman wasn't more trouble than she was worth.

He waved a hand before her glazed eyes and snapped his fingers to order, "Wench!"

"I'm not a wench, I'm a woman with god-like authority in this place" she snapped sharply and jabbed a finger in his face. How she hated bigoted men that lived in the social beliefs of the past. . .even though he was a man of the past. Either way, she wasn't about to let him get away with sexist comments. She leaned forwards with squared shoulders and to muster a decent threatening voice, "I could snap my fingers and turn you into a frog-" she snapped her fingers and chided, "-like that!"

A look of wry amusement passed over his face and Altaïr sneered dryly, "Then why am I not a frog?"

Vivian blinked to her inability to change her surroundings (like in most crazy dreams) and rationally justified, "Because my mind never lets me have fun in dreamland. I always get hurt or maimed and fun is completely out of the question. Beats me on how the inner workings of my psyche work."

Altaïr seriously considered the woman was off her rocker and expected her to start foaming at the mouth with crazy outbursts but first, he wanted answers regarding his identity. He grasped the front of her robes and demanded tightly, "Give me the truth or I will cut you down."

"You're in my world, buddy, I own you" she grinned slyly towards the aloof man and tilted her head amusingly to taunt, "I can do anything and you can't do squat. Here, watch."

She proceeded to grab one of the attached knives at his waist but he dodged her, extending his hidden blade to cut her right forearm. Vivian cried out to the burning sensation and stared as crimson blood coated the white of her torn sleeve, eyes staring at the very real injury in disbelief.

"Ookay, by all retrospect in imaginary land, that shouldn't have hurt!" she exclaimed and nursed her bleeding arm as rivulets of blood trickled between her fingers. Great, now she had to add another wound to her growing collection. The vibrant blood seemed very real and that in itself made her feel lightheaded. She uttered a faint whimper of surprise and groaned exhaustingly, "This time I really am going to faint."

She fell backwards as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and the assassin mentally winced when her head slammed against a wooden beam behind her, "Ow!"

Yep, she was definitely out for the count.

Altaïr surveyed the area as he thought on what to do with the woman and nudged her side with his foot to make sure she wasn't faking. By all standards, she would be declared insane with her bold assumptions and blatant disrespect but questions needed to be answered. If there was one thing he was good at, it was interrogating. That and killing exceptionally from the shadows.

_Good thing the Bureau is close by, I don't have to lug her around for long_, he thought distastefully and leaned down to hoist the woman over his shoulder like a meaningless bag of rice. It would be best to depart before anybody noticed his presence and after the number of guards that had chased the woman, concealment was best.

* * *

Vivian woke up with a pulsing pain in the back of her head and smiled happily, believing that all that Assassin's Creed make believe had finally faded away. The thought that she was finally back in the land of the living with her family overjoyed her and she opened her eyes to stare at stone rooftops that overlooked Jerusalem's horizon.

Crap. Double freakin' crap.

_Am I really stuck in this place?, _she thought worriedly and realized her feet weren't touching the ground. Her hands were dangling over white cloth belonging to another person, a real person who's back kept slapping against her face as they ran.

She opened her mouth to spit out lint caught on her lips and hung her head as everything that had transpired within the last hour flashed through her mind. The fact that she was thinking so clearly in what she believed to be the imaginary wasn't settling very well in her stomach.

_I need answers_, she thought determinedly and felt nausea rising in her stomach from the angle she was being carried by. Great, her head throbbed, her shoulder stung, her arm burned, and she felt the need to barf all over Altaïr's clothes. _Am I actually trying to admit this is real?_

The assassin didn't seem like the kind of person to dish out answers for nothing in exchange (if at all, he killed people he questioned) and after being slashed up, she wasn't looking forward for a Q&A session. Instead, she did the quickest and probably stupidest thing- bite him hard on the side of his torso.

His running stopped instantly and he broke the silence over the rooftops with an incredulous voice, "Did you just _bite _me?"

"Well, it seemed like the best- hyah!" she started to catch him off guard and kneed him in the gut to loosen his hold. Wriggling with the craziness of an eel, she fell out of his grasp and hit the stone roof on her spine. Withholding a painful groan, she crawled on all fours to escape him and felt the grainy stone scratch her palms. Ignoring the burning sensation, she scrambled towards the end of the rooftop to find a ladder and grinned in relief when one lied less than ten feet away.

"Haha!" she cheered aloud and ran over to the wooden ladder to climb down quickly as the assassin made a grab for her head. She narrowly dodged his skillful fingers and felt several strands get pulled out which involuntarily caused her to release her hands from the ladder. Her eyes widened as she fell back into the air and flapped her arms like a bird as she prayed for some serious air resistance. Frantically, she cried aloud, "Someone fat get in my way!"

Altaïr could only gawk in surprise as the woman landed facedown on the dirt below while the dark recesses of his mind laughed evilly at the humorous scene. Was she even alive? He could hear faint murmurs from below and people glanced up to where she'd fallen from, prompting him to bid adieu to this place.

He would catch that target if it was the last thing he'd do.

As the assassin faded into the afternoon shadows of the rooftops, Vivian groaned into the warm dirt as it entered her mouth, "This looked way easier in the game."

* * *

An hour later had Vivian with dirt covered assassin's robes and she took a tip from the AC manual by sticking to any nearby scholars so she could remain unnoticed. That soon blew over when the guards started noticing her crazy appearance and lack of navigation which referred her straight onto the rooftops again for security.

Climbing was practically impossible for her so she stuck to accessible rooftops on the second story level than the high peaks she usually made Altaïr climb. That in itself begged the question as to why the assassin was here. Had her subconscious created him? Was he actually real in this dimension? There were so many questions she wanted answers to but had no idea how to go about it.

As she sat on a rooftop, she wiped the dirt off her smeared face as her cheekbone hurt from the previous impact to the floor. If her mind wanted her to remain alive here, it was easier said than done, especially with all the gashes and bruises she'd gained. Her throat was parched from both the dry air and lack of drinking water which had her asking aloud, "How can I be thirsty? I don't drink or eat in imaginations."

"I mean I'm talking to myself so that's crazy in itself" she mumbled flatly to her rationalizations and grabbed a hand full of hair into both of her hands. It was already damp with sweat from all of her running and she sighed tiredly, "The sun's heat looks real enough and dreams don't last this long."

. . . "What if I really am trapped in this place?" she whispered despondently and her shoulders slumped at that horrible possibility. "Is this the game itself? My mind's reenacting? A real time shift? A parallel dimension?"

She buried her face into her hands and muttered woefully, "I really need some answers. Whoever's out there in this crazy world, help."

A pair of hands yanked her from behind and she struggled instantly, trying to call out for help by yelling rape since no one wanted that over their heads. Instead, a rough hand clamped over her mouth and she tried to bite but the person pinched her nose to make it even harder. Damn kidnapper was crafty.

She kicked wildly but her yells were muffled as she was dragged away from the rooftop and towards an open metal rimmed skylight littered with green vines. The rough stone was giving her poor butt rug burn as she was dragged carelessly and she yelled curses at her captor as she tried to take a swing at them.

"I _will _knock you unconscious if you don't stop thrashing like a snake" a cold voice warned her and she stopped when the familiar voice struck a memory chord in her head.

She tried to say 'Altaïr' but it came out, "Aghair!"

Her eyes saw the inscribed Assassin's Order insignia pass by on the rooftop and before she could ask, she was thrown back without warning. Her lungs didn't waste time in shouting as she fell through the air again and landed roughly in a pile of maroon pillows that decorated the floor. If he thought that was making the landing any easier, he was dead wrong. Fearfully, she scrambled to her feet as pain shot up her lower spine and she saw no way out as the familiar sight of the Bureau greeted her in perfect detail except now the view was easier to stand. The door that usually led to the rafiq's main room was locked and her hands banged on it desperately but the wooden door didn't budge.

She heard feet land behind and turned around to see the man most fans cheered for but who she was seeking to escape as her heart beat wildly. Was this how a mouse felt before it was ripped to shreds by a hungry cat? Her back pressed against the door as if it would offer refuge and she groaned weakly, "Oh no, he's come to finish the job. This isn't the way I planned to die. I just wanted to play a _game_!"

The door she was on burst open and she fell onto her butt for the second time that day causing her to cry out, "For the love of God, you're going to kill my coccyx."

"You really lack the subtlety of drawing a woman" another voice joined the fray and Vivian's jaw dropped as she stared up at Malik from her disheveled upside down position. His eyebrow rose to the unkempt woman with dry blood caking her robes and he asked warily, "Did you attack a fellow assassin?"

"She's not an assassin, more like trouble in disguise" Altaïr informed sharply and shot her a distasteful look. Involuntarily, she scooted closer to Malik since he actually was the nicer guy in the game as the assassin explained simply, "She's been causing chaos in the streets, I don't know where she has attained our garb from but she risks exposing our Order. Frankly, I think she's touched in the head and should be put out of her misery."

Vivian sat up instantly to his wrongful accusation and shot back, "I'm not crazy. You're in _my _head- not real! This whole place is fake, nothing here belongs to the 12th century- there's no logical answer to why you should even exist. You're a game character, _I'm _real. If at all, I should be able to kill you but no, you had to freeze in my gameplay and got me into this coma."

Altaïr remained silent to her ranting and after a few seconds, stated simply, "See? _Completely _delusional."

Her cheeks reddened in anger to his claim and she stood up to face the dai who remained baffled on the entire matter. Calmly, she spoke to him to make him understand her side of the story, "I'm talking to you because you're way cooler and nicer than him. This city can't be real-"

"But it is, why would you believe otherwise?" the white robed assassin intervened and she shot him a glare.

"Is your name Malik? No? So go away" she snubbed irritably and turned back to the other man who had become amused by the brash woman. He decided to lend an ear to her plight and she explained quickly, "I am from the 21st century where this is nonexistent. I mean, the 12th century and the whole Crusade era with Richard vs. Saladin happened but you, Grumpy over there, and everyone else here has no record of ever existing unless it's of a fictional nature."

She ran a hand down her face to sigh tiredly, "I was playing the damn game including you and knocked myself out in the process. This is just a figment of my unconscious mind to preserve my wellbeing until the doctors wake me up. Do you understand?"

Malik gave her a sympathetic look and spoke gently, "You need to rest away all of these wrong assumptions."

"But it's the truth, there's no way you can exist. . ." she protested adamantly and slouched as the energy to fight left her. Her eyesight caught onto a bookcase inside the room rafiq's always occupied and she ran inside quickly as Altaïr shouted for her to stop. Desperately, she grabbed the closest book on the middle shelf and popped it open as the two men looked ready to restrain her.

Quickly, she pointed out confidently, "If this is real, then these books will be filled with gibberish because there's no way the human mind could fill all of them in such tricks of the mind."

Vivian awaited a victory in her favor but her face paled when she saw Arabic writing littering each page and illustrations flashed by to aid what the author had written. Her hand dropped it in shock and she grabbed the next book, opening it to skim through the pages and found the same thing. The frightful part that dried her mouth and froze her mind was that she was able to _read _every word of it which was not possible. She did not know a single word of Arabic, except for maybe hello, so how could her mind translate such a broad subject? It was impossible!

_I should've realized that the second someone spoke in this place_, she thought quietly and her shaking hands shut the book as her stomach clenched. _But it can't be. . ._

"I-I don't know a single word of your language but I'm speaking it clearly and you're understanding. . .how can that be?" she asked faintly, searching their faces for an answer as her mind tried to grasp such a concept. The game used the English language for the fans but in reality, Altaïr and everyone spoke Arabic during these turbulent times which would be impossible for someone like her to know them. Quietly, she pointed out weakly, "Languages this old require translators, what is going on?"

She shook her head in skepticism to what Altaïr kept snapping the whole day regarding her presence there and asked nervously as she dreaded the answer, "This is the year 1192?"

"Yes."

Malik's answer made her stomach sink as every bruise she endured felt twice as painful to the stark realization that this could really be a reality. Bile rose in her throat as her skin became clammy to the warm temperature and Vivian groaned weakly, "Crap, I'm going to be sick."

* * *

**A/N**: Just to point out, Vivian will NOT be an assassin or attempt the Jedi path to being one. I refused to make her into a Mary Sue creature. She just got the clothes to fit into the same setting she had been playing prior to her accident and the real time Jerusalem. I feel sorry for Altaïr having to deal with a woman who thinks everything there is fake but then no humor would be involved. The whole existence for her being there actually relates to a piece of Eden since I've been reading up on their abilities in the AC Wiki. As for the language, I always read stories where the people hurled into the AC world knew the language perfectly even though in true reality, Altaïr wouldn't know English fluently. Thanks for reading and please drop a review, it helps me decide which stories to update sooner.


	3. In Honor To Gandalf

CHAPTER 3:

**In Honor To Gandalf  
**

* * *

A hurl of stomach contents later into a wooden bucket had Vivian sitting down on the comfy sleeping pillows as she stared straight ahead at the wall before her. The nasty tinge of vomit remained in her mouth and the accompanied dryness of the desert heat wasn't making it better. She couldn't glance down at her white robes as they were a stark reminder of where she really was and decided that staring at nothing would be best.

If her consciousness really _was _here, then her mind would have a hard time adjusting to this sudden culture- no, time shock. People didn't time travel for vacation purposes and to let loose; this would practically defy the laws of physics! Altaïr stood in the doorway with that intimidating posture of his and without glancing at his friend, stated coldly, "I think she's broken."

Malik shot him a stern glance for his chosen words and walked over to the silent woman to block her view with his presence. Her green eyes blinked in surprise to his intrusion and he soothed gently, "I am Malik-

"A-Sayf, I know" she finished quietly for him and rubbed her left eye in exhaustion. Her injuries had been cleansed with water and alcohol after Malik taught her how and the cuts were tough evidence to deny. Weakly, she sighed depressingly, "I know all about you and your order, all about the Templars, the ongoing Crusades. . ."

"What is your name?" Altaïr's voice demanded sharply and Malik uttered a sigh for his lack of tact in delicate matters.

She closed her eyes to lean her head back, blocking what she wanted to deny, and answered, "Vivian Shore."

"What else can you tell us?" he pressed at the English sounding name and Malik shot him a heated glare at his interrogating. Malik tended to coax answers out of civilians that were in shock but his partner in crime wasn't the same. Altaïr simply didn't care, Malik should've been happy that he wasn't beating it out of her like most of his victims (not to mention not killing her afterwards). The sound of her name alone sent his mind on alert and the fingers of his left hand wouldn't hesitate on revealing his blade.

"You mean 'how do I know all this stuff about you', right?" she corrected curtly to his brusque manner of speaking and scoffed to state bluntly, "Like I said, you're supposed to be fake-"

Altaïr growled to her confusing ramblings and it only fueled his incentive to know everything as he snapped heatedly, "This is real, _very _real, woman. People are fighting to possess the Holy Land, cities are falling, people from all ages are dying- _don't _tell me this asinine lie of this being illusionary. Do you want me to cut you again so you can see your own blood dripping onto the floor and touch its warmth to assure you of its validity?"

"I know the Crusades are real, I know Acre has fallen and Cyprus is possessed by Richard while he fights with Phillip II on tactics" she explained matter-of-factly from all of the history books relating to that era and opened her eyes to match his cold stare. She was lost to where she really was but one thing she knew was her history. Easily, she pointed out without pause from the known records, "I know Saladin will try to make a treaty that will fail and both groups will play tug of war with more treaties, Richard will use the guise of the Assassin's Order to kill his cousin who's supposed to lead Acre, and in 1192, a three year treaty will be signed between Richard and Saladin to end the Third Crusade. The Holy Land will never be captured by Christian forces."

"Other than that. . .I'm a Scorpio, twenty-one, Catholic, a knowledge sponge, a gamer, a computer nerd, an environmentalist, a history and psychology double major; I have two sisters, a dad, a pet Pomeranian, a pissed off Rex rabbit, bookcases filled with books, and live across the ocean in the year 2009 where I face the Pacific Ocean instead. We've had a bunch of wars, kingdoms have fallen, lands are rarely unoccupied, we have crappy reality tv shows, blogs that are mostly a meaningless waste of internet space, Facebook and MySpace are the new pestering addictions, pizza and burgers are the best creation of man, the fashion industry is bringing back the 1980s, and we're fighting like kids over oil and crying about the market crisis."

Both men were appalled by her claims and she smirked at seeing that expression on the usually cool assassin to finish, "Need I say more?"

"How do you know this? Compulsive lying will not get you far" he hissed sternly as he tried debunk her prophecies and she shook her head as she turned to face Malik. Maybe he wouldn't be more prone to 'burn the witch!'.

"The reason I look crazy to you is because I don't belong here- I mean, this isn't my home or my time" she tried to put into words as the entire thing was causing her a headache from too much sun exposure and dehydration. How could she even explain time travel? She didn't know how it worked at all! Her hands shook in her lap as she rambled on nervously, "I-I study the history of the world, all of this is extremely old school teachings to me. Malik, if you're from this era and if I am to believe this is real. . .I am _very _far from home."

"Then how did you get here?" the assassin demanded coldly and she grit her teeth to his intrusive manner. Really? Was that his only way to get answers? The man was more testosterone driven than he looked in the game and that was after punching interrogation victims.

"By riding the back of a sea turtle across the Mediterranean- I don't know how the hell I got here, okay?" she shot back sarcastically to see if that would shut him up for at least a minute. Altaïr was indeed a badass. . .a very annoying one.

As if sensing her exhaustion, Malik held out a cup filled with water that she'd no idea where he had gotten it from but drank it thirstily to hydrate her parched throat. Microbes and possible contaminations aside, the water was extremely cooling and every little thing she touched or saw in this place was assuring her this was real. She stared at the clay mug as her fingertips trailed over the handmade item that matched artifacts from this time frame and muffled a whimper rising in her throat.

"I-I live in the year 2009, it's December and there's no way it can be this hot in Berkeley. . ." she stammered disbelievingly, giving one last look at the dai before drinking the last drops of water. The liquid dripped down the side of her lips but she didn't care about her appearance at the moment, simply swiping her lips clean of it.

"Where is this Berekely you speak of?" Malik inquired softly as he took the mug away from her rigid hands and set it down on the stone floor.

"California, North America, you know, the Americas. . ." she explained quickly to see if there was a flaw to prove this was bogus but the two men only glanced at each other skeptically. No, they were being truthful and so must she if she wanted to keep living. She sighed under her breath as she regrettably found the continuance of her life bound to them and stated glumly, "Nobody has discovered it yet. People in Europe will sail to it in a few centuries across the ocean to colonize the land there. It is impossible for you to know of it now, nobody would believe it. I don't even have anything on me that could tell you about it or any proof of identification. . .this sucks."

Altaïr broke into her physical slump of self-pity to ask directly, "Can you draw it?"

She nodded quietly but brightened up at the prospect of giving them evidence of her honesty and answered quickly, "Of course, most people know how to draw a world map. We grow up learning about the continents-"

The assassin left the room before she could finish and Vivian sat back with a long sigh, "And you're gone."

Malik gave a sympathetic smile to the apprehensive woman and comforted by making a small joke, "Don't let him damper your mood even more. He's like that all the time, I should know."

_Me too, buddy_, she thought flatly towards the callous man and traced her fingertips over the tight thick belt wrapped around her waist. _This thing is annoying. How the heck do assassins run or sit with this thing? It's like a manly version of the corset._

She let the fabric be when she couldn't find the buckles for it and turned to ask the kind dai curiously, "Since it's 1192, I assume you're still fighting Templars?"

Malik nodded in response and she tapped her chin thoughtfully to speak her mind freely, "I don't know why Altaïr thinks I'm one of them, I can't even hold a sword. Maybe a knife but I only use that to cut food with and even then, I manage to slice off the tips of my fingers."

_Oh god, there's no sanitation or technology to store it here. . .and no technology, period!_, she thought woefully and almost sobbed as everything that made life easy in the 21st century faded into nothing. This was practically a prehistoric era in itself! _I should've been blasted into AC II instead._

Altaïr reentered the room with a piece of parchment and a small piece of charcoal in hand, throwing them at her feet carelessly as she shot him a glare for his mannerisms. It's not like she could fight him to escape anymore (she wasn't the amazing Spiderman, unlike him, that could scale walls) and grabbed the items into her hands. Vivian stretched the parchment over the floor and roughly began to sketch out the map of the modern world with ease as her fingers became stained with the piece of charcoal. She wasn't an artist or even held artistic ability but just about anyone could make it decent.

Twenty minutes later, the map was finished with the name of continents filling each land mass along with a dot on where her home was. She slid it over to Malik so he could see it first because he was easier to deal with and smiled confidently, "There. That little dot is where I live and I wrote the continents in English because, well, I don't know how to write in Arabic but I can tell you the names verbally!"

"It's all right, I know generic words of the language for traveling purposes" he assured gently which gained him a sheepish smile from the grateful Vivian and his eyes roamed over the map to read it. Malik had expected something akin to what he knew as the current map of the world but the one she drew was completely the opposite. Only one thing came to mind when he saw it and quickly called, "Oh my- _Alta__ï__r_!"

"What? Is she trying to eat charcoal now?" he asked listlessly as he played with one of his throwing knives to pass the boredom, leaning against the doorway without interest. Malik looked back to shoot him a wry glare for his smartass comment and simply showed him the map without another word. Altaïr tensed immediately to the familiar mapping that he'd seen from the Apple of Eden and briskly walked over to demand, "_This_ is your world map?"

Vivian scowled to his interrogation as he stood before her and bit out sarcastically, "Would you get your crotch out of my face? Sit down and talk like a normal person. . .and yes, yes, it is."

Malik laughed to the retort while the assassin didn't find it humorous in the slightest sense. However, he listened because he really didn't want the image to stick to his head as he continued speaking in the same position. He grabbed a pillow and sat cross-legged to interrogate again, "So this is your world?"

"I'm pretty sure I already answered that" she sighed tiredly to the runaround and pointed to North America. This whole 'I say, you say' game was growing irritating and she put a stop to it by stating slowly and clearly as she jabbed her index finger on the map, "Me live there, Altaïr live here. Vivian American, Altaïr Syrian. Me tired, Altaïr buffoon."

"I like her" Malik commented humorously to her sense of humor and noticed the frown forming on the other man's face. The dai assumed the assassin just didn't like her mouthing off since he was used to getting his way all the time and docile women rarely denied the cold man anything. Malik liked this new visitor to their Order and sighed when his friend's frown deepened further, "What is it now?"

"If she knows the map I'm trying to complete, I need all the information she has" he stated simply while Vivian glared as he talked like she wasn't even there. What was she? A horse to be beckoned at his every calling? She just knew culture clash was inevitable with the merciless assassin and she gaped when he informed astutely, "Meaning that I am taking her to Masyaf-"

"Wait, what?" she blurted to his bossing around and clenched her fists over her lap. For a second, Malik expected the hidden knife to activate accidentally and cut the woman's fingers but released a mental sigh when all five remained. Vivian grit her teeth and demanded shrewdly of the insensitive man, "Why would I go anywhere with you? You tried to kill me!"

"You are far too dangerous and ignorant to be left to your own devices, how else would you have listened?" he stated crisply to her sharp tongue. Women were supposed to be polite but this one practically clawed his eyes out with words.

She gave him a deadpan expression before loudening her voice with a matter-of-factly pitch in her tone, "Oh, I don't know, maybe by _asking_, Altaïr. Have you ever thought of simply saying 'hello, would you mind explaining while you're here? I promise I won't brandish knives at you!'? That would have been really _helpful_."

"You are going to Mafyaf, woman, whether you like it or not" he hissed curtly to her nonviolent solution when they met (he didn't do diplomacy) and motioned to a water basin nearby. "Clean your cuts and sleep because we are leaving at dawn. Not a minute less nor later."

"You order the sun to your whims too?" she commented dryly and fidgeted with the gauntlets strapped around her wrists. Damn things were like handcuffs. He grabbed her left hand into both of his and unlatched the hidden blade before she ended up losing all of her fingers, throwing it at her feet afterwards. A second later, he picked it up and stuffed the gauntlet into one of his many pockets which she assumed was to keep her unarmed and therefore, harmless. Is that how women were supposed to be seen? Insignificant home tenders. . .ugh, this century was going to kill her spirit.

"There are a few garbs that may fit you although they are fitted to the male physique" Malik suggested kindly to the woman and she nodded quickly to the wonderful idea.

"I'll take them, I can't walk around comfortably in this" Vivian piped hastily and pulled at the large and heavy robes for emphasis. Altaïr snorted to her claim on normal (and quite comfortable) assassin garb but she ignored him as she rambled on, "I'm more liable to draw attention like this anyway. Besides, I can always flatten my chest with a cloth to fit in."

Altaïr gave an unimpressed grunt to her self-confirmed idea and questioned skeptically to pick at her flaws, "How do you plan to disguise your face?"

"I said I would wear the clothes, not act the part" she stated bluntly and crossed her arms defiantly to point out firmly, "If you think I'm about to bulk up and scratch my vocal chords with a manly voice, you're getting a hidden blade to the crotch."

He was about to retort to her bold threat but she cut him off to finish, "Look, I'm already considering the fact that I'm stuck almost an entire millennium in the past in. . .is this supposed to be an _alternate _dimension? I don't even know! Besides that problem, I live by a different set of social standards in my time so if I want to wear manly clothes, I _will _do so and you will _like _it."

The assassin frowned and left the room without further word to escape her sharp tongue. Vivian shook her head to his awful manners and grumbled under her breath, "What crawled up his butt and died? He's more of a douche in real life."

Malik withheld a chuckle to her comment (though he didn't understand the last words- probably new century jargon) on the assassin's attitude and motioned to the scattered pillows around the floor. He informed the tired woman with a serene smile, "You will spend the night here. I assure it's very safe and there is food if you are hungry."

Vivian was about to deny since she'd no idea how sanitary food was in this era (bacteria, parasites, undercooking, spoilage, etc.) but her stomach betrayed her with a monstrous growl of its own. Hanging her head in shame, she took the offer without a second's thought, "I accept. Thank you, Malik."

* * *

The sun had set over the city of Jerusalem and Vivian had watched every minute until it faded into glittering endless dark sky as it finally hit home that she was stuck in either the past or an alternate dimension of the past. The game of Assassin's Creed never had any shifting hours and bathed everything in daylight so the chance of a deep hallucinating coma went out the window. She had already changed into brown robes that covered her from the neck down and tied cloth over her breasts because apparently bras didn't exist in this century! Running would be murder, unlike men who had nothing to worry about upstairs. As if that wasn't annoying enough, she had acquired Malik's hand in tightening the thing like a corset while the poor man flustered modestly over being in a room with a half-naked woman. Vivian then pointed out this was for fashion purposes (he saw her back only so she didn't see the big deal) before telling him to pull the cloth tightly behind her back before handing it over so she could wrap the next layer. All in all, it worked like a charm and now she was fixing up a mountain of maroon and gold trimmed pillows to make decent bedding.

The floor was hard as a rock, annoying enough because it was made of polished stone, and she sighed under her breath when her roommate snored like a demon. Seriously, he could make a rock concert with the loudness of his vocal chords alone. She didn't expect to get any sleep from her corner from across the room since moonlight filtered in from overhead and the chirping of crickets wasn't making it better. The large room lodging her and the assassin was the last thing she ever expected to happen that day and longed for her soft bed at home. Anything would suffice as long as it was in her home back in the future.

Her fingers trailed to her neck where oddly enough her mother's silver necklace rested and it had been the only thing transported with her. It gave her a sense of home and her fingertips etched the orb of silver that was encrusted with tiny emeralds here and there. The pendant held the tiniest outlines around itself but Vivian had never been able to open it, even if she could. Her mother had given it to her on her fifteenth birthday as every oldest daughter in her matrilineal life passed it down as an heirloom from wherever her line started. Vivian could only recall her great-grandparents from Madrid and that was it. She let the pendant drop onto her clavicle as she sighed aloud to the feeling of homesickness.

_So I'm really stuck here_, she thought miserably and resisted from smothering her face with a pillow. _Couldn't I have gotten Mass Effect? At least that's a little closer to my century and I like aliens. This makes Back To The Future look like nothing!_

Altaïr's loud snore broke her from the self-pity fest and she sent a pillow flying his way that smacking him on the back as he slept on his side towards the wall. The master assassin simply turned in his sleep, pausing in his snoring fest to her relief. . .only to resume after an incoherent mumbling.

_He's like a bear- hell, a normal bear wouldn't be this loud!_, she thought frantically to his incessant snoring and tears of torture threatened to cloud her vision. _I pinched his nose and the man continued snoring through his mouth. Vice versa and he does the same. Maybe if I pinch his nose and shut his mouth close together-_

_That would kill him_, logic stated simply to ward her away from such and she growled mentally. _Block him from your mind and you'll do fine._

"Great, I'm practically talking to my brain" she muttered into her pillow while hoping she wouldn't developing a coping mechanism via disassociate identity disorder (soap operas overused split personalities way too much despite its actual rarity) as she lied in a fetal position. "This day just keeps getting worse-"

A loud snore broke her words off and she growled in complaint to herself, "Okay, that doesn't sound human at all! Why don't they ever show _this _in the game instead of the little pixilated blue screen?"

"This is inhumane, not even modern day roommates suffer this cruelty" Vivian groaned pitifully as Altaïr snored away and she stared through the green vines above in the hopes that the stars would lull her to sleep.

They wouldn't.

An hour later, Vivian would be sprawled on her back with black hair draped around the pillows while her bloodshot eyes stared at nothing overhead without bothering to blink. Meanwhile, Altaïr loudly snored his troubles away comfortably in his spot as he dreamt about the best thing of all: flying with the birds. . .except pigeons, he didn't like pigeons.

* * *

"Malik, get your stuff ready while I grab the horses" Altaïr ordered as he tuned back into boss mode to guide his two followers back to Masyaf. Roosters crowed throughout Jerusalem as sunrise soon approached but Vivian learned they did that regardless of the sun and hours before. Malik would return to the fortress for the third time (he wasn't too happy about it) and hoped the Grand Master would finally make up his mind in regards to his overall plan. The firm man jabbed an authoritarian finger at Vivian and barked quickly, "Woman, finish your food."

"Mah? Bah?" she mumbled tiredly as she stared at her food like a zombie after only getting two hours of sleep, her tongue tasting the food as bland as her eyes struggled to stay open. Apparently, Altaïr didn't like competing with the roosters before dawn and had settled into a surprisingly noiseless sleep that finally allowed her to nab a decent sleep. Unfortunately, two hours later, he kicked her awake and told her it was time to get up as he strutted away fresh as a daisy.

She dropped the piece of baked khubz she'd rolled around a piece of hard cheese and whimpered, "I can't feel my teeth."

Altaïr had already left and thus, heard none of her words as her eyes flickered to fight off sleep and took a nimble bite of her food to fill her stomach. Her posture slumped forwards as her sleep deprived state depressed her further and heard Malik's padded footsteps join Altaïr's outside. The men ended up too occupied in their pre-trip chores that they failed to see the woman fall asleep sitting down. When they returned, they found her butt up in the air while the left side of her face was coated in olive oil, tomato slices, and pieces of broken cheese on the breakfast plate lying on the floor as she snored away her exhaustion.

"The trip hasn't even begun and she's already being lazy" Altaïr said disapprovingly and resisted from kicking her right in the rear, instead pushing her to the side so she'd land on the right side of her body.

Instantly, Vivian jerked awake and declared, "I'm up, I'm- _ugh_, I'm covered in oil!"

"We're leaving" the master assassin informed sternly and carried on as if the disheveled woman wasn't even there. Malik, however, offered a hand to get her back on her feet as she wondered what kind of god would make her suffer like this. Seriously, should AC fans get a better treatment? Ugh, now she really wished time had blasted her into Mass Effect because she could explore and hang with aliens or ACII where she could partake in the Renaissance and bust Ezio in his manwhoring balls (because Altaïr scared her more) or even Lord of the Rings where fantasy came to life and she could stab an Orc in the eye with a toothpick.

_Time travel is supposed to be awkward and fun, not painful and traumatic_, she thought dryly and licked the oil slicking down her face. _Well, I might as well finish my food. Dad always says to never let food go to waste and Malik's a nice host._

Ten minutes later after the shoveling of food into her mouth, Vivian found herself before three horses and raised her eyebrows in question to the white mare that ate hay while a brown horse and a gray speckled stallion were taken by the other two men. Wait, did they expect-

"Get on, we have no time to waste" Altaïr ordered hastily and pointed to the horse.

"Sorry, your highness, but I don't know how to ride a horse" she spat sarcastically and nervously ran a hand down the horse's snout as her black eyes watched her. Vivian hoped it wouldn't take a crap near her like the last one she'd seen. Apprehensively, she pointed out to Altaïr in a softer tone, "I'm a city kid, we have cars. . .metal carriages- ugh, carts that take us places. I've never even touched a horse, let alone seen one up close since yesterday."

"Well, you better learn quickly because we'll be leaving in. . .now" he informed carelessly and kicked the sides of his horse to motion it to trot forward. Quickly, she scrambled after him and yanked him by his left boot as it rested on the stirrup to get him to help her. He tried to shake her away but she managed to pull the heavy boot clean off his foot and laughed at seeing the multicolored fabric wrappings covering his foot in place of socks. Were socks even created at this time? Hmm, yes, they were. Europe used them to symbolize purity and most were used among nobility while everyone else used pieces of fabric and leather to retain warmth. Altaïr obviously chose fabric pieces.

Vivian waved the stolen boot mockingly in the air and laughed giddily, "This is priceless. If I could take this home, I'd sell it on eBay."

Malik rounded the corner as he hoisted his satchel of belongings over his shoulder which he'd place onto his horse soon for the one day ride and his eyes widened to see Altaïr chasing the woman on foot while missing a shoe. So much for making a quiet exit from the city.

"Children, behave" he stated flatly as he walked between them, halting their mad pursuit, and began to tie his belongings onto his speckled horse without a problem. His right arm kept growing stronger as it became the only dominant appendage and wondered how his sword fighting skills would improve. He paid the fighting duo no mind but ordered simply, "Vivian, give back the boot. Altaïr, apologize for whatever you did."

Both began to argue their point in unison, "But-"

He shot them a glare from behind his shoulder and Vivian threw the boot at the assassin's feet in which he hastily put it back on as he scowled to her actions. Cursed wench. She tapped the back of his head as he bent over and ordered, "Teach me the basics. Now."

"Arrghh."

"You're an eagle man, not a dog" she chided with a grin and walked over to the horse as it ate hay. Altaïr wanted to chuck her in the water trough and hold her under for a few seconds but the sooner he taught the wench, the sooner they'd leave Jerusalem behind.

"Aren't you pretty?" she cooed softly and petted the mare's mane with delicate fingers as the hairs slipped between her fingers without a single knot. Leaning into her ear that was flicking away bothersome buzzing insects, she whispered pleadingly, "Please don't crap on me."

Altaïr grumbled under his breath as he walked over to Vivian and clasped his hands together to give her a boost, ordering sharply, "Up. Now."

Vivian wasted no time in obeying because she wanted this trip over with and to keep the man from accidentally shanking her before they reached Masyaf. Shifting weight onto her left leg, she hoisted herself up but only managed to fall horizontally over the saddle like a drunk right out of those old western flicks. Her legs dangled in the air comically as Altaïr resisted from groaning in frustration and she called back, "I'm pretty sure this isn't right."

She dropped back down onto the ground, careful not to trip over her own feet and fixed her robes before attempting it again. This time, her fingers barely grabbed hold of the saddle before she fell back onto Altaïr and both hit the ground as their horses neighed mockingly to their fallen riders.

Malik sighed depressingly to himself and patted the mane of his own horse to mutter, "We're going to be a while."

The sky had cleared away its murky gray into a soothing lilac gray when Vivian finally managed to boost herself properly onto the horse with a triumphant grin and Altaïr was ready to leave both her and the city in his dust. Malik simply ordered his horse to take the path as leader since traveling as a group would bring less suspicion onto them, especially with a woman in their midst. He would play the role of a cartographer while Altaïr would be the scholar as always.

"Hurry up" Altaïr ordered sharply and she mimicked him under her breath as she held the reigns of her horse uneasily. He noticed her hesitance and grit his teeth in irritation before asking tightly, "What are you doing now, wench?"

"Shut up, Robin Hood" she snapped back and gently patted the neck of her horse.

"I shall call her Shadowfax and she shall be mine" Vivian proclaimed proudly as her newest adventure began (although reluctantly) and gently tapped the mare's sides with her feet. She just knew wearing sandals were going to be a curse when sand got trapped underneath but the horse would save miles of itchy sand. With a wild grin, she preached aloud, "We shall be a tribute to Gandalf the Grey- er, I mean, White."

Altaïr really fought the temptation of throwing her into the water trough at this point.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for all of your story alerts, the more I see the faster I try to type up the next chapters like I do with my other stories. :) Anyway, if there's any grammatical errors, I've noticed my glasses are getting a little out of focus so it's to the optometrist for me. I would wear contacts but I get lazy. Anyway, I couldn't hold back the Lord of the Rings crack since every time I saw a white horse on the game, I went 'hot damn, I'm getting Shadowfax- forget the rest, he matches with Altair'. As always I research, so the food was studied- although it did give me munchies but water keeps me satiated- and I know nothing on horses which is where Vivian's lack of knowledge as a city kid comes in with Altair's obvious knowledge over them.

Thanks to my last chapter reviewers, your feedback keeps me clacking away at the keyboard for an update:

_Panda_- Thanks for loving the story and I'll keep updating as feedback grows. :)

_TheSpaceButler_- I'm glad the humor tickles your funny bone, I'm trying to make it outrageous but absolutely believable. Thank you for reading!

_Pseudo British kid_- Yeah, I'm avoiding making her into a Mary Sue completely (even though time traveling qualifies but I'll be explaining that as the story flows). Ha, that cartoon show totally gave me the title for this fic but unfortunately, Altair's more of the silent type but I'm sure Malik will fit in the comic relief alongside Vivian for Adventure Time!


	4. Equestrian Lessons Needed

CHAPTER 4:

**Equestrian Lessons Needed**

* * *

"_The Road goes ever on and on, _

_Down from the door where it began._

_Now far ahead the Road has gone-"_

"Would you _stop_ singing? You sound like a drowning coyote being eaten alive by ravenous crocodiles" Altaïr sighed exasperatedly in irritation as he tried to refrain from covering his ears to the awful pitch in her voice. He pitied the woman's poor steed who had to bear the wretched sound at close range.

Vivian blew a raspberry towards his rude opinion (even though she knew her voice was bad) and snorted out dramatically, "_Well_, it's better than listening to hoof beats. Besides, people talk when they're on the road to prevent boredom. In my time, people tend to crash because they can't put their damn cell phones down or stop texting while driving instead of listening to music which is hands free."

The master assassin was pretty much boggled by the last sentence and bluntly stated with a scowl, "Your world confuses me."

"Yeah, well, it confuses _me _too" she snickered to his direct approach to things because humankind was all over the place nowadays and patted her mare's hair absentmindedly.

Malik spoke up to keep the peace between them and asked curiously, "Does your world look like this or has it changed?"

"It has changed dramatically, buildings of metal can touch the sky, machines fly through the air to transport people across the sea to their destinations, land is rarely open like this and homes litter practically every area as the population of the world keeps growing" she explained in simple layman terms as the dai tried to picture it in his mind but to no avail while the assassin was wary of the strange woman altogether. He'd seen similar things in his views of the Apple and wondered what they meant. Is that what her world was like? Or was she tricking them with visions of grandeur?

_It is still my world, only many centuries ahead_, he thought matter-of-factly as his eyes practically bore holes into the woman's back as she and Malik took the front. _And it doesn't mean I won't be watching her in case she's a fraud._

"How much do you know of our year 1192?" he asked carefully as she played with the horse's hair as the mare trotted slowly over the indented path of dirt. If she was trying to appear friendly and docile, the part was going splendid but Altaïr was watching every flicker of movement for betrayal.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully before honestly replying, "That's the thing. I'm wondering if everything that should happen will since by all logic, you shouldn't be. In my world, you're nonexistent so frankly, I don't know. Just about anything could be possible."

Curiously, she quirked an arched eyebrow and asked amusingly, "Why? You're not going to try and wipe out all the Templars, are you? Because I can tell you now, it ain't gonna happen."

"Why?" he demanded defensively to what he himself thought was a _great _idea because Templars were nothing but a vile disease that only held their own interests at heart rather than seeking balance like the Brotherhood of Assassins. He grit his teeth in annoyance when she had the gall to grin at him as if he were joking.

"Because they still exist in the future timeline of this game- er, I mean, your life" Vivian explained and bit her tongue before she ended up wrecking the past with future knowledge. It was pretty hard considering this was now her reality and didn't want the fabric of time to accidentally collapse on itself because of her mistake. She sighed exasperatedly before blurting, "You see? There's a different timeline for this dimension you live in compared to mine. You're supposed to have a descendant in 2012 who gets kidnapped by Templars and escapes to who knows where. I wasn't really paying attention since Avatar came out and I got hooked. . ." she cleared her throat as she stopped rambling, "The point is my future has _none _of that. No Assassins, no Templars, nada. All we have is crazy terrorists, gangs, sea pirates, burglars, and other messed up folk. Pretty much the same except they have more technology to nab money with."

"Then how do you know of our Order?" Malik asked curiously as he rode up alongside the woman while Vivian began to bat away bothersome bugs. For all she knew, they could be ridden with disease like yellow fever, dengue fever, encephalitis, and who knows what else. At this stage in time, medicine was incredibly archaic so keeping healthy was a crucial must to survive which didn't settle well in her stomach (the heat didn't make it better either).

Nonetheless, she smiled cheerfully for finally knowing a good answer and responded, "You're a game. In my time, we have these round discs and we insert them in a box that can produce moving pictures and we play a game. You're both characters in the game which revolves around your lives in the Brotherhood, mainly Altaïr, and thus, us players are given all the information. Malik's good at making maps, Altaïr can't swim worth a damn-"

"I can swim!" he retorted defensively to the claim everyone seemed to make about him and she rolled her eyes with skepticism. Sure, and she was Mary Poppins.

"Yeah, I'll have to see that myself because in the game, you sunk like a rock- frankly, I'm surprised you didn't drown in a shallow water basin" she joked dryly, mostly in effect to those annoying and disastrous jumps that had her restarting a mission because the man was fatally allergic to water. Malik laughed aloud to the jest since he'd never seen the other man swim at all for as long as he'd known him (he didn't count walking through water as swimming) while Altaïr's lips thinned to being the center of ridicule. He was a Grand Master, not a jester!

As he bristled with gritting teeth, Vivian let out a humorous disappointed sigh from her dry lips, "You'll probably debunk a bunch of fanfics if you actually manage a decent backstroke."

"Tell me of your city" Altaïr demanded briskly to dodge more questions on that damnable subject and she shook her head to his constant brusque tone. You would think going on a quest for redemption would have had him looking twice at his harsh attitude and paranoid personality. . .but no. Vivian began to wish she would've been dropped in AC II because at least there, she could kick Ezio in the family jewels if he tried anything funny. With Altaïr, she was afraid to even ask for a drink of water.

"Would you stop going all Darth Vader on me? I'm not going to kill or withhold information when I've no idea how to get home!" she stated angrily to get the man to chill for a minute and wanted to throw her boot at him but didn't want to lose it along with her life. Jabbing a warning finger at him, she narrowed her green eyes and pointed out matter-of-factly, "You're already dragging me to Syria without my say-so and my navigation is very limited since my country is practically an ocean over. I don't even know in what direction we're traveling right _now_! Where are the Vikings when you need them?"

"Vi-kings?" Malik asked uncertainly as his lips tried to pronounce the strange words with his tongue and Vivian sulked for feeling so out of place in this world, realm, dimension, _whatever _you called it!

The master assassin spoke up as he tried a different approach to grab answers from the irksome woman and calmly asked, "Do those land masses truly exist in your time? Are they discovered just as you named them?"

She nodded quickly and explained, "Altaïr, those lands exist here too. The only thing holding back our people is the large gap of ocean and lack of technology but sturdy ships will be built around the 15th century to chart the New World after they originally planned on finding the Indies and later on, paths will be found to cross the entire world instead of sailing underneath South America and Africa. Even now, native people inhabit those lands as their own but the era on conquering all of the land in the name of Europe will do away with them. That is what _this _world has yet to face but all of that is history in _my _time already, there is no more discovery. . .well, now we're trying to conquer the stars but-"

"The heavens?" he asked sarcastically and pointed to the clear blue sky overhead which gave the traveling trio no wind but plenty of scorching sun. Altaïr couldn't help but laugh aloud at such a ridiculous idea and Malik quirked an eyebrow of surprise at hearing the man actually laugh. True, it wasn't a friendly laugh in the slightest but kept his comments to himself; he was there as a neutral party. Vivian rolled her eyes under the hood protecting her face from the burning sun and before the assassin resembled a laughing hyena, pointed out haughtily, "There is no way you can pierce the sky."

Vivian couldn't help but chuckle at his skepticism and held her sides before she fell off the horse. Altaïr didn't seem too pleased with her outburst because _he _wanted to be the one laughing in superiority and she calmed down to say with a friendly smile, "I wasn't laughing at _you _but your concept. It's just so rare to hear such a thing in real life. . .well, back home. . .but yes, we have already traveled past this orb we call our world. Earth is just a planet in an eight planet solar system, it had another but it turned out to be a little dwarf planet but _anyway_, thousands lie out there in the heavens. We've already built ships to travel to the moon and smaller machines to hover over nearby planets and to give us signals for our technologically advanced culture. There's just so much I could tell you really."

Both men remained in stunned silence to her claims and she hung her head to sigh miserably, "This isn't where you call me 'witch' and burn me on a stake, do you? That actually occurs later on in the centuries though, mostly in my country, and in vain because people are too naïve to look at scientific evidence and follow ideological beliefs instead."

"What do you know about the pieces of Eden?" Altaïr questioned simply, dodging her crazy ramblings which contained nothing of value to him. She shrugged noncommittally as she slowed the speed of her mare to ward off heatstroke since she wanted to take good care of her temporary horse but the assassin sighed under his breath at her coddling. Altaïr's horse definitely wouldn't have minded a bit of spoiling himself after all the crazy missions he went on with his master and nickered under its breath too.

"They're scattered everywhere and the people that made them apparently weren't of this world which is making me believe they could be aliens that highly resembled us" she offered with a peppy voice over all the theories circulating online and added in helpfully, "Oh, I meant aliens as in visitors from the stars, not people from foreign lands. Yeah, we believe in that too in our time. Plus, the fact that they make it sound that all religions are false kind of screws up my belief system _here_."

She tilted her head to the side as she remembered his Codex from all the other games after the first and wasn't certain where exactly this timeline fell into. Was it after the first? During? It would've been really helpful if the tight lipped jerk gave away any indication but no. Instead, she'd pry it out of him with subtlety and innocent naivety as Vivian piped up curiously, "Have you begun writing your private journal, Altaïr?"

His brown horse jolted as he pulled tightly on the reigns to halt the steed and cautiously, Altaïr demanded with a sharp hiss, "How do you know of that?"

"Your Codex writings will help your descendants figure out your opinions regarding many things the Apple shows you. . .hmm, maybe _I_ should write a journal too so people don't think _I'm _crazy" she pondered aloud with a goofy grin filled with zest at finally having something to do and patted the sides of her horse with her feet to quicken her pace. The mare listened with a flick of her ears and Vivian declared with a happy voice that filled the empty desert path they were following, "You'll be the first page, Shadowfax. Day 2 of. . .whatever day this is. . .I'm on my way to Masyaf with two assassins to. . .actually I don't know _that _either. Mr. Grumpy doesn't really tell me anything, just bosses us around like he owns the world. Malik let me borrow my first horse ever, she's white and gentle, and hasn't tried to throw me off at all. The dai's pretty friendly despite his witty remarks in the game and I think we'll be good friends. . ."

Altaïr gave Malik a flat expression as they fell behind the chatty woman having her one sided conversation and he stated bluntly, "Am I supposed to trust a woman that _talks_ to herself?"

Vivian, meanwhile, continued rambling on her day's adventure to nobody in particular, "I named her Shadowfax because Gandalf totally rocks and this is practically my first adventure in unknown times and wilderness. If I'm trapped in time, I'm not going to run around looking stupid like Kagome from Inuyasha. . .although Altaïr would fit the role of Inuyasha with his pushy brusque attitude but he has all that white so maybe Sesshomaru would fit him best. Hmm, why wasn't I blasted _there _instead? At least the century gap wouldn't be too wide. And why couldn't I bring stuff from _my _time here? Sure, it'll defy time and archaeologists will scratch their heads at finding food wrappers from the past so why does Kagome get to do it and _I_ don't?. . .Well, at least I have Shadowfax."

Once again, the assassin demanded of his friend with a bewildered expression, "Are you _hearing _this? She's clearly bizarre."

"She _is _from another century, maybe her people act that way regularly" Malik pointed out on behalf of the woman as he tried not to laugh over her echoing voice. He wasn't bothered by their new companion and didn't sense any hostility from her so he would give the poor confused Vivian the benefit of the doubt.

"Altaïr's a pain in the butt, more so than in the game" she remarked with a wrinkled nose in regards to the man as she talked to the horse, who snorted at the air. Her fingers skimmed through the white mane as she remained oblivious to the eavesdropping assassin behind her and wiped beads of sweat off her warm forehead before continuing, "He pissed me off in the mission at Solomon's temple because of poor Malik's outcome and his smartass remarks afterwards that it wasn't his fault when it _so _obviously was. The man was practically foaming at the mouth with testosterone to kill something-"

Malik burst out laughing to her critique on the assassin's character because he was in need of a good laugh and Vivian turned around with surprise to give them an innocent smile that had him cackling louder. He was pretty sure he was louder than any birds flying by with their calls. Meanwhile, Altaïr grit his teeth at the audacity of that woman and wrongful analyzation of his character; he was _not _arrogant. If she couldn't see that his skills and intelligence far surpassed hers, then she was blind. Women of this era were meant to be courteous, respectful, and- what the hell was she doing _now_?

"Come, Shadowfax, we shall explore the land like real adventurers by being piss poor but somehow managing good wardrobes" Vivian declared giddily as she tried to keep a good mood throughout the scorching heat of travel (or maybe it was a mixture of both that and delirious heatstroke) and let her mare hasten her steps down the flat span of desert land. Malik and Altaïr ordered their stallions to follow the woman in close distance before she escaped their sight and did something disastrous.

* * *

Two hours later of nonstop riding, the trio stopped before a small eatery that roadside residents created at the front of their residences to make a decent income and Malik ordered kibbeh (fried bulgur stuffed with meat) and shish taouk (marinated chicken shish kebabs) for the group to fill their stomachs for the afternoon. Vivian's clothes were drenched in sweat from the searing heat and the fact they had to travel more than 140 miles from Jerusalem to Masyaf but were barely halfway there. God, it looked so easy in the game and she was more than ready to collapse onto her horse at the midway stop. Everything in her body ached so badly and she wanted to nab a good nap but doubted the taskmaster known as Altaïr would allow it.

"Oh god, I can't feel my ass" she groaned pathetically as she rested her left hand over the bottom of her aching back and her horse neighed as she stopped. Her hooves tapped against the hot dirt and the movements stung poor Vivian's coccyx causing her to whimper pitifully towards the blue sky, "It's not fair, Altaïr made this look like a breeze in the game and Lord of the Rings made it appear fun. How do equestrians do this?"

The assassin tied the reigns of his horse on a nearby wooden pole and raised his eyebrows when his and Malik's horses were the only ones there. Where was. . .? His line of sight spotted the white horse trotting away as Vivian rested against the mare's neck and Altaïr ran over hurriedly to grab the reigns to pull her into a stop. His mind filled with gratifying confirmation that she'd been trying to get away and was about to boast it to Malik but pushed it aside when he heard weak groaning from the slumped figure.

_Damn, did she die?_, he thought puzzled and decided to poke her side roughly like a piece of meat, earning him a weak punch towards the head that he easily avoided. Disappointed, his face formed into a frown, _Nope, still alive. Luck isn't with me today._

"I can't get off the horse" she groaned exhaustingly and managed to sit upright as her lower spine ached the second it touched the saddle. Her green eyes closed as she wanted the whole trip to end already and slip into a warm bath to work out the sore knots in her muscles. Oh, even the feeling of warm water cascading down her dry skin tasted wonderful. She couldn't remember her last sip of water itself during the trip.

She batted away wandering bugs venturing too close to her face and mumbled with slurred words, "If you simply throw me off, will I suffer a concussion?"

"Malik! Get the wench" Altaïr called over his shoulder in his 'I'm far too important' voice to poor Malik who was already getting their plates of food and Vivian growled at his cold demeanor.

"I don't need your help, queen bee" she snapped curtly to return the same sentiments and tried to make her legs work but they only responded with a bothersome a charley horse. Great, even her nervous system was asleep. Her hands massaged the worst tingling areas instantly as she cursed at whatever part of the brain did that to muscle cramps and yipped aloud when she felt a yank on the back of her robes.

Most people would believe Altaïr to be a knight in shining armor for the ladies (or so most fanfics lead the reader to believe) but Vivian saw the spawn of the devil when she hit the hot ground on her ass. She sputtered loud curses at the man as her painful butt was awakened out of its numbed dreams by searing hot pain to the harsh impact and wanted to beat the man with her boot. The assassin said nothing in apology and simply walked back to Malik without even asking if she was all right.

Asshole.

"When I get back home, I'm going to write such a bad fanfic involving you, Robert de Sable, a raccoon, pig lard, and forceps. . .crap, I just traumatized myself" Vivian muttered irritably with a disgusted shudder at the horrible pairing but it was for rightful justice. Like the saying went 'the pen is mightier than the sword'.

She managed to stand after three tries because those legs of hers were practically jello after the long hours of riding. Vivian gave herself a victory when she made it the makeshift bench without crawling like a dying dog to where the men were fixing the food.

Unlike the cold assassin, Malik was ten times kinder in her book when he handed her a cup of water with a genial smile and she chugged it thirstily. Forget the possible contamination of bacteria. She burped loudly enough to make a drunk football fan proud the second she finished, setting the cup down on the wooden bench, and Altaïr glared at her awful feminine mannerisms in which she scoffed, "Oh, keep your socks on."

Her eyes scanned the dishes of hot food as the freshly made scents of spicy aromas filled her nose, watering her hungry salivary glands instantly, and Malik asked amusingly to her eager face, "Have you eaten food like this before?"

"Well, not really- hot damn, they have baba ganoush- finally, a food I've _actually _eaten before" Vivian cheered gleefully with a lick of her lips to the yummy dip she loved to eat with tortilla chips back home and grabbed the plate of dip to herself to dip pieces of falafel inside hungrily. Altaïr, however, nabbed the dip back before she could take out the pieces and she protested defensively, "Hey, I called dibs!"

"You will wait until we all have equal portions, wench" he scolded firmly to her greedy manners and whatever 'dibs' were but she wasn't having any of _that _either. Vivian stuck out her tongue to his tone since he apparently took on the role of dictator over what she did and responded with attitude befitting such a person.

"Yes, 'father', I'll be a good wittle gurl" she mocked dryly with a tight smile and paced for a bit to get the feeling back in her legs while Emperor Altaïr fixed the food. Screw horse riding, she'd rather go on foot from now on if it meant saving her butt from numbing dreams. Lord of the Rings did it. . .okay, it took them a year to complete the mission but still!

_This is not a fun adventure_, she thought miserably and batted a nearby fly that wanted to land on her face. _And the bugs. Ugh, where's some eucalyptus or lemon to use as natural repellent?_

The robe was suffocating her (the fact that it was dark brown and wouldn't reflect light like pastel colors didn't help either) and she threw off the hood and piece of cloth that covered her mouth onto the ground. She'd done it for natural sunscreen purposes but hoped she wouldn't have tan lines on her beige skin by the time she arrived at Masyaf. Her hands lifted the skirt to knee length to let in a cooling breeze that caused wonderful shivers on her hot skin and Vivian grinned like that infamous Marilyn Monroe picture with the floating dress except she looked more like a goofy dark-haired drunk instead of a sex symbol.

"Woman, stop bringing shame to yourself!" Altaïr snapped sharply to what she was doing in public without a care and she shot him a heated glare for the reprimand. Really, this wench was more trouble than she was worth! He jabbed a finger in her direction to sternly order, "Have some sense of decency!"

"I'd have you know that women are allowed to show their legs publicly along with their arms and anything else that doesn't include their private parts in _my _time" she stated stubbornly as his teachings clashed with hers but she remained undeterred by the assassin. Her feet kicked a few random rocks around to give her legs exercise and fresh air as she quickly corrected herself haughtily, "Well, in _most _countries, but I'm Catholic so nyeh!"

He gave up the fight before she caught the attention of people gathered at the small resting stop and placed her portions at the end of the bench (he wanted to be as far from her as possible) before people started staring at the woman for showing her legs in public. Vivian quickly ran up to grab her plate before hungry flies landed on it, shooting him a scathing glare for his rude behavior. Sitting down to eat a good meal after barely eating breakfast before dawn, she heard him mumble quietly to Malik, "She'd be dead if it wasn't for us. . .can't even act modestly in public. She looks more like a harlot-"

Vivian slapped the back of his hooded head without warning and retorted before he could turn to admonish her, "Says the man that couldn't distinguish an impostor of Robert de Sable with breasts from the real thing."

"She said breasts" Malik laughed hysterically at her unabashed words in public (he really wondered how her world was at this point) while Altaïr bristled at the comment for the strike at his pride. _Anyone _could've made that mistake. The dai took a bite from a falafel crisp with a delicious 'mmm' before smiling up at both of them giddily, "This is going to be the best intercontinental adventure."

Vivian choked on a piece of juicy chicken and sputtered with a cough, "Wait. _What_?"

* * *

**A/N**: Ha, Altair is such a jerk and poor Vivian just wants her butt to stop having dreams while Malik, well, I think he's enjoying all the new entertainment. The trio will continue the journey in the next chapter as Vivian tries to find out more about her new existence in the world of AC while Altair keeps interrogating her. Here's a few quotes from the next chapter where Altair and Vivian share a fire at camp:

_"I'm hitting the hay-"_

_"We have no hay."_

_She gave him a deadpan expression and hung her head to groan, "It's a 21st century saying. It means I'm going to sleep."_

_Vivian crawled away to her spot in the camp and he heard her mumble, "Like a baby."_

_Altair grabbed a small pebble nearby that barely weighed anything and flung it at her rear for a direct hit. "Ow!"_

* * *

Thank you to all of your story alerts/fav's because the more I see, the more I keep clacking away. Right now, this story is around rank 3 or 4 against my other fanfics with Avatar being first but feedback keeps the story alive. Thanks to my past chapter reviewers:

_Pseudo British kid_- I'm glad you and another reader that reviewed loved that line. If you're sprawled over the floor while Altair looms over you, I'm sure it would turn awkward at having to talk to his crotch, haha. Malik's the calm and peacemaker in this since he needs more screen time than the game gave him.

_Laundrylint_- Ha, horizontal monkey tango. Priceless. Thanks for liking the story since I'm trying to keep it humorous but logically believable because there's no way a time traveler into the AC world would be fitting in happily without a mental breakdown in between. Some stories leave out that reality and go straight into repeating the AC game all over with a peppy smile but poor Vivian's taking the stress off her mind by chatting to a horse.

_TheSpaceButler_- I'm glad you love the humor in this story! I plan to keep it full of it since Vivian will be smack in the center of it as the poor soul tries to adjust to the harsh change of time.

_NaruVamp_- I bow graciously at making you laugh and yes, Altair will remain an annoyance to Vivian with his suspicious attitude but he'll get his just desserts when he unknowingly sleeps next to a crocodile in Egypt.


	5. Not In Kansas Anymore

CHAPTER 5:

Not In Kansas Anymore

* * *

"We're camping here for the night" Altaïr declared to his party as he climbed off his horse with tired muscles and unhitched his belongings off the auburn colored steed, casting a suspicious glance to the guest of their group. The woman irritated him to no end since they began their morning journey and her constant nagging drilled into his brain like a metal spike. There was only so much he could take before he expertly executed her in private and left her corpse in a ditch somewhere to be picked at by vultures.

He tied the lead of his horse to a sturdy tree that was clear of bothersome rocks which would give the stallion no problems during sleep. Malik chose a nearby tree for his own horse and showed Vivian the easy but important procedure of tying the leads. However, the dim lighting of the approaching night wasn't doing wonders for her sight.

_What I'd give for a flashlight right about now_, she thought miserably and groaned aloud when she tied her own wrists into the lead, stomping the ground with an aggravated frown. This prehistoric age would kill her with exhaustion instead of danger! Malik took pity on the woman and untied the leather straps from her hands, freeing her, to wrap them tightly around the trunk of the tree in the correct manner.

"Thank you, you can see that I'm at a loss on everything" she mumbled sheepishly and patted the snout of her horse as the mare licked her face. She couldn't help but smile at Shadowfax's gentle temperament and promised her a treat. . .Vivian didn't exactly know what horses liked but she'd ask and find out. The poor horse had the worst rider in the world at the moment and Vivian felt pity for both of them since Shadowfax couldn't exactly express her emotions.

"It's no problem at all-" Malik replied with a friendly smile to improve her mood to the journey but the rest of his sympathetic words were cut off by the other assassin.

"If you two are done _mingling_, helping me build this fire would be _very _beneficial for the night" Altaïr cut in shrewdly as he collected dry grass, sticks, and whatever else that would aid as kindling in creating a fire. He wasn't one to waste time on anything and had already swept his designated sleeping area clean of rocks with his feet so he could sleep soundly later on. Efficiency on all tasks was key and he was already onto the next one while the other two lingered behind.

Vivian rolled her eyes to his brusque attitude and mocked him with a military salute to pipe up dramatically, "Yes, my king!"

Altaïr shot her a heated glare as he threw his bundle on the ground where his designated spot for sleep laid. He kneeled down to create his fire pit and hissed sharply, "I don't find your humor amusing in the slightest so unless your words spout fire like a legendary dragon, you _better _start moving."

_What the hell crawled up his ass and died? Or maybe it didn't_, she thought scornfully but obeyed the jerk as she glanced around the dimly lit area for kindling. The new experience was turning out to be worse than camping because in normal times, lanterns were supplied.

"And how am I supposed to see where I'm going? It's pitch black out here!" she snapped back sarcastically as she set down her pack next to his, earning a disgruntled growl from him when she almost bonked him on the head. Her foot nudged the area she walked in case there were snakes or scorpions lying about but she realized that either way, she was screwed with any bite. There was no 911 to help or any nearby hospitals to go to by car, there was nothing in sight but wilderness.

_I'm not going to last a week in this make believe world_, she thought hopelessly and slumped pitifully in her spot. Her survival skills were nonexistent and even back in Jerusalem, her negotiating skills were even worse with all the escaping she did. If Altaïr hadn't kidnapped- er, _found_- her, she'd probably be lying in a ditch and fighting rats for food scraps.

"Wench, get moving!" the rude assassin jerked Vivian out of her ruminations and she jolted at his sharp tone. Honestly, she'd never met anyone so insufferable!

The area might have been dim but she could still see the scowl on his lips as he crouched, prompting her to kick dirt in his face in payback. Instinctively, Altaïr reached for her throat but the dirt stung his eyes the second it hit them. Malik, who'd been drinking from his traveling canteen, came close to spitting out the water as the dust cloud grew around the two.

He tried to see between the haziness but the lingering light in the sky wouldn't permit it. Malik could definitely hear the loud rabble between the two that only grew in volume with the passing seconds. When the dust finally settled, he found Vivian flat on her back while his colleague loomed over her with a face resembling a furious lion ready to gut its prey.

"Altaïr!" Malik warned instantly as he saw the man's left fingers twitching slightly and knew he was ready to pounce with his hidden knife. The other man halted in his movements, casting the woman roughly aside by the collar of her robe as he stood up to tend to his makeshift fire. Altaïr was livid at being stopped from putting the pest out of her misery and took out his fury on making the fire, rubbing the two sticks furiously in his hands. The dai gave the woman a weary glance as she sat up to smooth out her dusty wrinkled robes and advised her, "Vivian, you must play nice as well."

"I'm not the one brandishing silverware at people's faces!" she snapped irately as fear gripped her at the possibility of being stabbed to death at night in the middle of a desert. Nobody knew where she was and the assassin wouldn't care about where he dumped her or that she had a family. Plus, even if Malik wanted to help, she was certain Altaïr could knock him out since two arms were better than one. She wanted to kick his ass from feeling so helpless in his presence (would it be so hard to cut a lost woman from time travel some slack?) but at the same time, knew that would cause the same end result anyway.

The dai could only take one direction in this kind of conflict and suggested to Vivian, "Why don't you gather some water from the nearby stream-""All the way out there. . .in the _dark_?" her meek voice whimpered at the idea of spiders and poisonous creatures dwelling in the dark. Those things could attack at any given moment if she wandered close to bushes and the spider webs, ugh. She shuddered at the idea of touching those silvery strands and curled into a ball to hug herself with rocking motions for self-therapy.

"You _really _aren't from around here, are you?" he chuckled amicably with sympathy to the poor woman as she hugged herself and grabbed a wooden pail from his belongings. She eyed him with curiosity but remained huddled by herself and he suggested another idea to get her to come along, "Come with me and I'll make sure nothing bites you. Unless you'd like to stay with Altaïr and let him bite you, that is."

She blinked to the innocent joke but with her futuristic mind where every word could be turned into something vulgar, she wrinkled her nose to wince in disgust, "Ew."

"Vivian" he reprimanded gently and she smiled at the way he accentuated the last syllable of her name like a father would. Oh, how she wanted to go home and tell her dear ol' dad to throw the Altaïr cutout on the lawn and use the lawnmower over it to shred the bastard. Well, _if _she got back home. Altaïr might be the king of all asses but Malik would be the pleasant prince in this journey so her best chances at friendliness were with him. She mumbled incoherently as she pushed her fears aside to obey the dai and the two headed off to gather water while Altaïr continued to rub his two sticks together.

He imagined them being Vivian's neck and grinned maniacally at the image. However, a second later, they both snapped under his strength.

"Damn it."

* * *

"And up there somewhere, I think. . ._there!_" Vivian pointed victoriously to the sky as she remembered old astronomy lessons and wikipedia trivia. With a triumphant grin, she finished, "Is the star called Altair. It has the same name meaning although I don't see why it has to have two wives at his side, supposedly called the Black Swans."

"Two wives?" Malik whistled humorously with a wag of his eyebrows toward his brooding friend who wasn't amused by the joke. The assassin huffed in his spot as he sat like a granite statue, cold and menacing as he stared into the fire rather than joining the frivolous conversation.

"Don't ask me who named it, I'm just the reader" she laughed in return as her mood lifted slightly with their new chatter on star watching and wouldn't let Mr. Grumpy ruin it for her. All he did was grumble in his own spot and Vivian wondered what the hell she found interesting in his character in the first place! If she wanted to see this, she could've gone to watch spoiled rich kids not get the fanciest car available by their parents since TV was packed with annoying shows like that. At this point, she would've given her left leg to get dropped in ACII where she wouldn't have to deal with someone who had the emotions of a rock.

Altaïr, on the other hand, was puzzled by her endless chatter that made absolutely no sense to his logical mind and didn't hesitate to state bluntly, "Why would an eagle mate a swan? It makes no sense along with the fact they're two different species altogether."

"Don't disassemble the meaning of stars and I didn't invent star names so nyeh!" Vivian shot back by shamelessly sticking out her tongue and the assassin grimaced at the ill-mannered behavior. Did the woman have no shame? Vivian didn't care what he thought because to him, she was the crazy wench that had super secrets that could destroy his precious little order. It became irritating after hearing it a hundred times since the trip started and after the last stop, began zoning out his scathing words. She turned to flatly glance at the assassin and pointed out sarcastically, "And why did your parents name you 'eagle'? You're a different species and the fact you can't literally _fly_-"

"I get it" the man cut in sharply to drop his argument and both she and Malik laughed aloud to his temperament. The man was obstinate, especially when wrong, and Malik knew he would argue an entirely different subject as rebuttal to defend his irked pride. His assumption didn't fail when Altaïr demanded gruffly of him, "Shouldn't you be sleeping? Your shift is only hours away."

Malik grumbled inaudibly under his breath but Vivian was sure it was full of insults towards being told what to do. If he didn't pick on her, Malik would be the next target but Altaïr was nice in comparison to what he usually told her.

"Must you always ruin fun? You suck it like a black hole" she joked offhandedly to divert the assassin's attention toward her rather than the calm Malik who'd done nothing wrong. His intense gaze shifted to her as dislike and irritation laid hidden behind his brown orbs but Vivian's green shade ignored meeting his. Instead, she looked to the mild-mannered Malik and sweetly told him, "Go to sleep. If you can't wake up, I don't mind watch-"

Altaïr's head snapped at attention with neck breaking speed to her audacious suggestion and instantly commanded coldly, "Absolutely not! You are still under watch for conspiracy-"

"But I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed helplessly at being blamed yet again for something she had no control over. Honestly, he probably got an ego boost for reprimanding people. She'd already been guilty of who knows how many crimes in Altaïr land and hoped it wouldn't get worse with real people as she traveled. She threw her hands into the air as she tried to keep calm but exasperatedly questioned, "How is being thrown into the past a _crime_? What are you, the 'time travel' police? If so, I'd like to see paperwork, dear sir, before-"

He stuffed a piece of stale bread into her mouth to silence her screeching and shook his head at having to deal with her. Unfortunately, leaving her in Jerusalem was too much of a risk for their order and wished he could've simply drowned her. His ears received glorious silence and Altaïr grinned smugly at finally shutting her up.

_She's worse than a newborn babe_, he thought irritably to the miserable company he had to travel with (Malik excluded, of course) and longed for it to end. He didn't mind traveling with Malik since the two could talk endlessly with the past put behind them now but he couldn't do so with the stranger walking about.

Vivian thrashed around indignantly to her treatment and wondered why women didn't dare to take a stand against men like this in this century. If they stopped cooking, tending to children, household chores, selling in marketplaces, and withheld sex from men, the men would crumble like cookies in milk. Oh, how she'd love to create such chaos but knew she'd be tied onto a pyre of fire like Joan of Arc for being a heretic when the justice system was ruled by men.

"I bid you good night, Malik" Altaïr spoke calmly with friendliness in his tone for his brother in arms and grabbed a leather satchel that contained his most important papers. Vivian finally pried off the bothersome bread off her teeth since he'd actually lodged it into them and eyed him with an evil stare. He simply snorted at the empty threat behind the glare and she squeezed the bread roll in her hands. This was a sign she was about to mouth off again and he nipped the idea in the bud by ordering curtly, "And don't you _dare _raise your voice at me again."

She grit her teeth, fingers squeezing the bread as she yearned to launch it at his hooded head. Breathing deeply, she calmed herself and decided to nibble on the bread since all she'd had to eat was dried meat that had been too salty and water. Malik wondered if leaving the two together was a wise idea but Altaïr's motive at the moment was gaining her information so he would play nice. . .for now. After the interrogation, Altaïr would either kill or send her away like a flea ridden dog since he only needed her for information. He punched his bag of clothes as he used it for a makeshift pillow, throwing himself onto the ground to sleep after a long grueling day with the banshee. Vivian glanced at the sight in dismay since she'd never done such a thing in her life (with the exception of camping but that was inside a tent, never the bare ground) and prayed that bugs wouldn't seek refuge in her ears during the night. She might just have to spend another sleepless night watching any nightly critters venturing too close for comfort.

Altaïr pulled out the map the woman had drawn for him as silence filled their campsite and stretched out the piece of parchment to its full length. The continents she'd drawn were eerily similar to what he'd seen from the Apple and began to ponder if the two were mere coincidence. His coffee colored eyes began to roam over the continent of his homeland but his eyebrows furrowed when he heard the tiniest crunches from the woman's area. He watched her eat a piece of bread like a mouse with its precious morsels of cheese and cleared his throat to catch her attention, directing a flat stare in her direction.

She matched it with a heated glare of her own, her green eyes glinting from the glow of the fire, and justified swiftly, "I'm allowed to eat however I want. Don't you judge me."

His eyes narrowed to her blatant disrespect and when he didn't glance away, she threw flecks of bread crumbs at his hood. The moment she saw his left fingers flex, she remembered that the man was truly dangerous and no longer an image of fiction in the gaming world. She might have a smart-alecky mouth but she held her life in higher regard and nervously backed down to suggest meekly, "I'll just eat my bread over here. . .away from you."The man appeared satisfied, she believed it to be so because he wasn't brandishing a knife at her throat and scooted towards the warm fire. She wanted to conserve pieces of the bread but damn, she was hungry after all those hours of riding and the salt of the meat only made her more hungry and thirsty. Oh, how she wished for unhealthy fast food in her darkest hour. She'd tear off and sell every piece of Altaïr's armor just to have a fat juicy burger in her hands.

_How do people survive the night here?_, she thought worriedly and cherished the crackling fire in front of her. Finishing her piece of bread, she rubbed her hands over the flames to shiver at the warmth seeping into her skin. The food was already gone and she could only wonder how long the fire would last throughout the night. She didn't want to wake in Arctic temperature to see a wild animal chewing on her leg. _If I was in Mass Effect, I'd be in a comfy ship in space. . .then again, if I was in Fallout, I'd be running from super mutants and fearing radiation poisoning. Maybe AC is a good balance that doesn't have evil aliens and ghouls._

Incoherent but grumpy sounding mumbles entered her ears from the left and knew it wasn't Malik. Why, you ask? The poor dai was already snoring in his spot and dancing the tango with fluffy sheep in dreamland.

"Why is life formed around chaos? What is mankind's purpose in the world?" Vivian quoted aloud as the assassin studied the lands west of the Nile. He almost crinkled the paper he held in irritation for the break in concentration and took his own meditative breaths before he kicked her across the field. His clear state of mind allowed him to interpret her words and despite never hearing them, they gave him an eerie tingle in the spine. She spared him a glance away from the fire and inquired softly, "Have you written that in your Codex yet?"

"What answer would you have me give?" he replied coolly because he wouldn't allow her to make him believe she knew everything about him or that she came from 'the future'. It sounded so preposterous, he actually wanted to laugh. Instead, he returned to his study as Malik's snores actually overcame the crackling fire in sound.

She sat down next to him without permission which caused him to scowl under his hood and Vivian shrugged casually to answer softly, "Doesn't matter. I need to find a way to get home and if I can help you on your quest, I don't mind lighting the way. I just wish modern conveniences were available instead of constant danger. It's funny, you know, to hear a man ponder on the meaning of life and in my time, we still ponder the same."

"You have not found an answer?" he asked simply to make idle conversation but the lightest hints of curiosity blended in with his tone.

Vivian chuckled to the question and tucked her legs to the side as she shook her head to reply earnestly, "No. I don't think we're meant to know but if you find it, you should scribble it down. Wars are still waged; you can wake one day having peace and the next, your country's fighting with another. The Holy Land will still be riddled with conflict nine hundred years from now. Actually, I don't think there's a country that goes without conflict. Enemies can change as quickly as the wind so I don't think mankind will change anytime soon, Altaïr. It's gotten to the point where we're changing our own environment and wars can be waged over a simple comment. Temperatures keeps rising due to gas produced by modern machinery, the earth and oceans are drilled for oil to feed said machinery, forests are cut down to make materials. . .but we have good things too."

Her voice became less grim and more chipper as she explained, "We're more knowledgeable, our medicine is highly advanced and we survive in the harshest environments with technology as it expands our life expectancy. Have you glimpsed into images of the future yet?"

Altaïr didn't want to give away any secrets that he hadn't shared with his Order but he could covertly pry information out of her. He noticed that being kind and sincere warranted her trust somewhat after watching Malik and if he could act the same for a little while, he could manage the same. After all, how hard could it be to trick her?

"You said something that caught my attention before, buildings that pierce the sky-" he admitted as he tried to vocalize what he'd seen and moved his hands in an attempt to visually draw them with his fingers. His brow furrowed as he explained uncertainly, "They are made of different materials that aren't stone and are completely smooth, looking nothing like the ones we have now."

His right hand hovered over the map to swoop over the sketched continents to pose his question, "Is this entire map covered in them?"

"Most, yes, but there are lands that are inhabited by indigenous peoples and others do not have a high income economy to make such buildings" she answered carefully with the recent world statistics to let him know that everything he saw was normal and not crazy stuff that would rot his brain. Since she seemed to be on civil ground with him, she offered an olive branch of peace by suggesting, "If you have a piece of paper, I'd be glad to draw one."

He grabbed a leather bound book that lay by his side and flipped through the crisp pages until he found an empty one. Vivian saw writing in the first few dozen pages as they passed by and judging by its small but sufficient size, wondered if what she assumed was right. Daring to bite the bullet on this, she asked curiously, "Is that your Codex?"

His eyes studied her like a shifty raccoon for the private question and he pinned her with a deadly stare as he stated slowly, "Yes, but I will kill _anyone _who-"

"Stop being so skeptical. . .and stop threatening every human being you meet" she cut in to take his grim attitude down a notch and grabbed the spine of the book into her hands as he flinched defensively in case she tried to put it in the fire. He would've loved to rip it out of her hands since he didn't give her permission to handle it but any sudden movement might cause his life's work a demise. Instead, she surprised him by gently grazing her fingertips over the brown leather as she studied the width of book, careful to keeping his pages flat so she wouldn't glimpse at anything private. Softly, she confessed with a breathless tone, "But it's not thin. . .the spine is thick enough to hold more than a hundred pages here. I don't . . .Have you been writing in each page? Back and front?"

"No, the ink would seep through the page" he answered crisply to her crazy ramblings but her eyes remained on the book. He hadn't expected her to take such an obsessive fascination with it and her behavior began to grind his nerve. Uttering a sigh, he demanded gruffly, "What is the problem?"

"When your descendant in Italy finds the pages, the book itself is not bound anymore after centuries of aging but. . .only thirty pages are found" Vivian spoke faintly as she wondered why so little would be found if the pages were so important. The pages he'd already written in seemed to pass more than ten, probably twenty! Did so many of his writings become lost by the passage of time? Her face became crestfallen to the knowledge that would be lost to the future members of the Order and she murmured with disappointment, "That means your Codex was longer than in the game series- I mean, the reality in my time. You're supposed to continue writing this until you die so what happens to all of the pages in between? Why is so little left?"

"Vivian, I am the wrong person to be asking" he stated flatly to her questions and she uttered a weak whine in rebuttal. Why did she even care what he wrote? Did she know what was already in there? Honestly, the woman was arising more questions in his mind than what he originally started with! She would be a strange one to interrogate with her shifting moods and illogical answers. All he could supply to her endless questions was a reasonable and blunt explanation, "I can only assume pages were lost or too worn to be read."

She sighed halfheartedly because she didn't want the matter to be dropped so easily because of its importance but could see by his frown that he didn't want to continue the conversation. Her fingers tapped on the paper of the book and her gaze flickered to the fire briefly as she mumbled sluggishly, more to herself than Altaïr, "But it's supposed to help you and your descendants upgrade weaponry and armor, bring new techniques of fighting, kick Templar ass- oh, now I'm more confused than when I arrived!"

With a grumble, she grabbed a piece of charcoal to sketch out one of the most popular skyscrapers of her country, the Empire State Building. She wasn't an artist in any way so she'd draw a decent doodle of an outline to hand over. The crackling fire caused a bit of eyestrain with the surrounding darkness but with the nonexistence of electricity, she would have to grow used to it. That didn't mean she had to love it and shook her head miserably to groan, "Oh god, how I miss the streetlights."

He gave her a questioning glance about the strange word and she answered woefully, "Metal poles that give citizens artificial light."

"Fire?"

"No, it's- oh jeez, you're like a little baby" she sighed depressingly to having to explain the entire concept (she didn't even know anything on electricity) and he glared in offense at being deemed as such. She chastised herself for forgetting to keep her big mouth shut and trying not to piss off the assassin. Raising a hand in peace, she spoke cautiously, "I meant no offense. It's light but more like captured light that glows and. . .I'm not very good at explanations but in my time, we have no need for fire anymore unless we're cooking or for warmth. Even then, all we have to do is turn a knob and it pops out."

She handed him the finished sketch before she had to explain ovens to the 12th century man and wiped away specks of black soot off her robes. Meanwhile, Altaïr hated to admit that her hand drawn description fit some of the visuals he'd seen inside the Apple. A little too detailed for his liking. That in itself raised more questions on who this woman was and what she really knew. Did her drawing really signify that she was from the future? He'd heard farfetched stories before but this?. . .Then again, how did she know so much about him? And why did she lack common knowledge associated with this life?

Vivian noticed his blank stare into the fire and seeing that he was on shut down mode already, aimed a thumb toward her sleeping spot. She really didn't want to sleep in the wild but her body was already crying for rest, especially her sore butt. Stretching her arms, she informed the assassin, "I'm hitting the hay-"

He snapped out of his ruminations and turned to pin her with a puzzled stare, pointing matter-of-factly, "We have no hay."

She gave him a deadpan expression to the common phrases of her time he'd no idea on and hoped the next morning would turn out far better. Her brain was already becoming sluggish and she hung her head to groan tiredly, "It's a 21st century saying. It means I'm going to sleep so goodnight, Mr. Assassin."

Vivian crawled away to her spot in the camp since it seemed easier than getting up on her achy legs and Altaïr heard her mumble, "Like a baby."

He grabbed a small pebble from nearby that barely weighed anything and flung it at her rear for a direct hit, "Ow!"

* * *

"We're off to see the Grand Master,  
The arrogant Assassin of Syria,  
Da da da da da da,  
You'll see he's an ass of the past,  
You'll find him coated with bacteria.  
E coli! Spirilla! Even diphtheria!  
Da da da da da da  
If there ever was a worse Assassin,  
It's the Grand Master!  
Altaïr takes time to make a kill,  
And the mission really fails to fulfill,  
So enemies will have time to run for the hills!"

Vivian looked at the sky thoughtfully as she finished her little song since making her brain work took away the boredom of the silence on the road. She always figured traveling would bring more adventure but all she had was sweaty clothing and a sore butt so far. She stuck out her bottom lip in thought and critiqued her words, "Hmm, needs a better rhyming sequence. What do you think, Malik?"

"I think my side exploded" he laughed hysterically while the other assassin bristled behind the woman for being the victim of her jokes. Vivian smiled proudly at her creativeness because she couldn't hold a decent rhyme for the life of her and ignored the fuming man intentionally as she combed her fingers through her mare's hair. Shadowfax seemed to like it and whinnied contently as she took the lead but Altaïr wasn't having any of that. He'd assigned himself the rear in case of enemies while Malik stayed ahead but there was no way he would allow her to break formation. He tapped the side of his brown stallion with his foot and forced himself as the leader of the group once again by passing her, shooting the woman a scathing glare on the way.

"I hope your face freezes like that, you'll give your enemies heart attacks without the need to kill them" she retorted tartly as he passed by and shooed him away by waving her hand. The man was too dominant for her liking and his constant grumpy mood picked at her brain like nails on a chalkboard. Lifting her chin to show defiance, she scoffed airily, "Go scare the pigeons or something."

Altaïr was about to demand respect from the wench but Malik beat him with a whole different reaction. The dai simply laughed heartily and complimented the woman's boldness against his fellow assassin, "Vivian, I think you will fit in just fine."

Vivian smiled cheerfully since Malik was a breath of fresh air in comparison to Altaïr because to her, the two were as different as night and day. Ahead of them, Altaïr came close to breaking his impassive mask and gawking in bewilderment to the man's opinion. They'd just met her yesterday- yesterday!- and he already approved of her? Was he the _only _one with common sense? He swallowed a furious growl that threatened to leave his throat and forced himself to relax by telling himself that soon, the interrogation for the truth would begin.

The group passed the final ivory-toned stone arches that signaled the last mile before reaching the village of Masyaf and Vivian stared in awe to the realistic view that was exactly as the game. She became giddy at finally experiencing the only peaceful place on the AC map where she wouldn't be chased (hopefully) and asked curiously, "Are we getting close?"

"Yes" the assassin replied plainly with disinterest to her incessant jabbering and she nodded with an excited smile. After everything she'd endured, she'd finally get some decent rest and begin collecting answers as to why she was here.

Her historical interest in this old world only raised her excitement at what she could learn because grumbling the whole way through wouldn't get her anywhere. If at all, it would offend people and she'd be chased with swords for being a critic. As a history major, this was a Christmas present to be studied! The river to their left looked absolutely delicious to her after traveling for so long but there were no stops along the way. Oh, she couldn't wait to clean off all the dirt she'd gathered and give Shadowfax some yummy hay for lunch. Clapping giddily, her sun parched lips broke into a peppy grin and she asked eagerly, "Great. So what's it-"

Altaïr took advantage of her off-guard stance to knock Vivian over the head with the blunt hilt of his knife, effectively knocking her unconscious over the mare. Malik stared in bewilderment to his rash action as the poor woman slumped on the animal but Altaïr justified it by stating, "If she knew we were getting close, she may have tried to make a last desperate attempt to run away. Spies cannot be trusted."

"I didn't really see it as necessary, she _wanted _to come" Malik disagreed to his friend's skepticism and shook his head because as an ex-assassin himself, he understood the undertaken precautions. His instinct, however, told him that Vivian didn't seem the type. The woman was frightened of anything and everything along which weren't very spy material. If at all, she appeared to be a foreigner that was suffering mental illness and lost to the modern world around her. However, the fact that she was lucid made her case extremely unreadable after all the training he'd completed.

"Well. . .uh, it will make the last mile quieter" Altaïr reasoned matter-of-factly and quickened the pace of his horse to take the lead as he grabbed Shadowfax's reigns to pull her along. Vivian simply bobbed with the horse's trots as Malik stared at the unconscious woman with pity while Altaïr was thankful for the comfortable silence around them. The harpy had droned on and on with questions about current times since they left camp but he wouldn't fall for her annoying ploys.

"You know, she's not as bad as you think" Malik spoke up casually to bring up the woman as the subject since she was quickly becoming a thorn in Altaïr's side. The other man growled in frustration to having her brought up in a topic, like it wasn't bad enough when she was conscious. Altaïr stared straight ahead at the curving road with a silent glare as the dai tried to put in a few good words for her, "She's a scared woman that is far from home. She cannot help but be defensive as she adjusts."

Altaïr snorted at his friend's sympathetic words but he refused to change his mind about her until he knew the truth. After that. . .he hadn't thought that far yet. His tone was incredulous and demanding as he honestly asked, "You actually believe she is from the so-called 'future' then? It is the stupidest thing I ever heard-"

The dai aimed a sour face at the assassin callous words and rebuffed his opinion with his own, "I'm simply stating that there could be truth to her words. We should not be hasty to label her as crazy without hearing her part in this. You've seen her behavior-"

That statement certainly _didn't _change Altaïr's mind and he shot Malik a deadpan stare as to all the crazy behavior she'd shown since meeting. She'd already bitten, punched, kicked, and thrown dust in his eyes; that would not put her on his good side at all. If at all, she was extremely lucky at not meeting her end on his blade. He scoffed derisively and briefly glanced at the unconscious woman, pointing out another idea, "She could also be delusional and know absolutely nothing-"

"Then why was she wearing an assassin's garb?" he questioned to their first meeting and smirked for bringing up that very valid point. The woman had become a menace in the city without meaning to and heavily denied not knowing how she got there or putting the clothing on. Altaïr, however, wasn't about to let his skepticism fade on his friend's simple hunch and shook his head to deny the possibility of her being right. That would completely destroy his logical mind, not to mention science, and he'd already had enough with the Apple. Malik's horse trotted up to the brown stallion to keep pace and he remarked casually, "You must admit that there are certain things she knows that outsiders would not."

"So what would you have me believe? That she is actually from a future where we're fictional?" he demanded briskly as he wished to end the subject and laughed sardonically at the idea, the cold sound echoing through the empty dust path. A tight smile crossed his lips and he spoke doubtfully at the absurdity of it, "I'm hearing _myself _say it and I don't believe it. Do you've any idea how ridiculous that sounds? Would you actually believe such a ludicrous thing?"

Malik sighed at the man's intolerance and knew his friend was finished speaking on the matter. Well, at least he tried to give a little lenience for Vivian and now, it would be up to her to prove that she was being honest. He sighed under his breath and ended the subject with a little advice for the assassin, "No, I'm asking to give her a chance. Question her about facts we know of this time and see how she responds."

Altaïr grumbled under his breath at this new development, he had no time to waste on loony women when he should be fighting Templars. They were the main enemy and probably a league ahead in finding the pieces of Eden while he was stuck being a caretaker. A caretaker! He shot the unconscious Vivian a scowl for bumping into his life and disrupting the balance. He needed to discard her quickly to keep pace with his plans or risk weakening the Order against them.

_The sooner I return to Masyaf, the sooner I can deal with her and be done with it_, he thought irritably and hastened his horse's pace to finish the trip. Masyaf was minutes away and he would cut whatever time he could spare to interrogate her and begin his plans for exploring the African continent.

"I can't wait to be home" he mumbled listlessly as the shade of the trees brought relief to his warm skin and really couldn't wait to end this bothersome adventure life had brought. Whether by executing her or leaving her in a dungeon to rot somewhere, this Vivian woman would be taken care of.

* * *

Altaïr smelled the fresh piece of baked bread before taking a bite into it, a rare smile hitching at the corner of his lips. He was definitely home and it felt marvelous.

He'd just had a good lunch to renew the energy he'd wasted on the two-day journey and didn't want to delay the decent warm bath awaiting him in his quarter. Malik had departed as soon as they entered their home to go over his maps and Altaïr didn't keep him. Of course, he had to dump the unconscious Vivian over his friend's shoulders so he could find a place for her. Altaïr didn't really care where Malik took her as long as she didn't disrupt the assassins or escape. The fortress of Masyaf provided safety for the Order and if the woman was lying, there would be no escape for betrayers.

His dexterous forefingers twirled a metal spoon between them as he decided on something important. He was sure he'd regret it later on during the day if he didn't act on it now and placed his spoon inside his empty bowl. Yes, it had to be done.

Standing up, Altaïr grabbed a nearby wooden ladle that laid on a emerald cloth and filled it with the thick potato soup pot that was centered on the long rectangular table. He happily poured himself another serving into his bowl and left the ladle in the pot in case he needed a third helping (he wasn't ashamed of gorging on food). Inhaling the herby steam off the warm pot, he sat back down with his straight posture and quietly said to himself, "A wise choice indeed."

A second later, he proceeded to devour the serving like a thirsty coyote finding a cold refreshing watering hole and avoided the awkward glances any nearby recruits gave their Grand Master. He dared them to say a word on his table manners and they'd see why he was ranked as their superior, regardless of his frantic eating.

His acute hearing picked up the short calculated strides that were of Malik's nature and he finished the last spoonfuls of his meal. It was almost a shame that the bowl was empty. With a higher rank, Altaïr was expected to appear collected, stoic, and above all, wise and brave for his society. Of course, that was for public display purposes but he didn't mind grilling people for fun and watching them squirm (namely, the recruits). For example, his friend that carried maps under his only arm seemed ready to update him on the 'crazy wench' situation which was a good starter.

"Did you put her in the farthest room in the top level?" Altaïr questioned simply since that was the only thing he cared for at the moment. That and extra cloth wrappings for his feet because they were chaffing from all the walking. . .and his feet got cold easily but nobody needed to know that.

Malik directed a wry look of sarcasm at him before asking himself aloud, "How are you, Malik? Why, I'm doing rather well, thank you for asking. Did I forget to mention thank you for coming along with me and leaving everything behind? No, but you're most welcome-"

"All right, I get the point" the assassin cut in curtly for forgoing courtesy and tossed a bread roll to his companion, unfortunately forgetting his friend only had one arm and it was already in use. Malik didn't bother to let go of his maps for the bread and lazily watched it bounce off his chest and roll over the stone floor. Altaïr tried to lighten the situation by coughing uncomfortably and ordering simply, "We'll give that to Vivian. She'll never know the difference."

"Altaïr, you can't treat the poor girl like a dog" the dai reprimanded to the wrongful idea of giving her dirty food and sat down on the opposite side of the table. He didn't hesitate on being her defense (since she had none) and remarked casually, "You might not like her but she seems sincere."

"Sincerity can get you stabbed in the kidney and decapitated" the other man replied coldly to his soft heart and Malik sighed exasperatedly to his paranoia. Altaïr wasn't looking for another fight on the annoying topic that was 'the crazy wench' and pointed out swiftly with authority, "Look, we're not here to make friends with her. If she's lying, she's dead. Plain and simple, Malik. If not. . .she's exiled from Masyaf and can roam where she pleases-"

"She's not from around here!" he tried to justify since the poor woman wasn't there to defend herself. His leader was right on spies being executed and if she was, he would abide by it for being deceived. However, the truth would set Vivian free and she would need refuge in an unknown world. He pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent a headache that Altaïr always seemed to bring and plainly put forward, "If she's right, then she has no home."

Altaïr lowered his head to dismiss the woman's testimony and couldn't help but laugh at the possibility, "Now that is hardly my fault, is it? If her time travel gods put her here, they can take her out."

"Must you be so cynical?" Malik sighed deeply as he reached the end of his rope at reasoning with his friend and decided to call it quits.

The assassin tilted his head upwards before replying scornfully, "Yes, when someone like Al Mualim raised you and backstabs you, I believe that yes, a little cynicism is deserved. And when a woman creates chaos in the streets of Jerusalem and persists she's from the future, yes, cynicism is _well _deserved. And when-"

"You're not going to stand in front of the Order's banner and preach the rest of this, are you?" Malik interrupted dryly with an uninterested face to his ranting and jiggled his maps. He'd find better conversation partners with the silent maps than the grumpy Altaïr but was certain the assassin's mood would lighten as soon as the Vivian business was taken care of. With a witty smile, he reminded cockily, "Because I have work to do and if you plan to leave soon, it's either this or your boring speeches."

"My speeches carry bravery, valor, integrity. . .oh, just carry on" Altaïr dismissed him carelessly with his own smile hitching at his lips and proceeded to tear his bread into pieces. The hall echoed with a hearty laugh from Malik as the two men relaxed in the safe confines of their home.

In the farthest and highest room, Vivian woke up with slobber trailing down the side of her dry lips and hot skin that was sweaty under her heavy robes. She was no pretty damsel in distress from the Disney franchise as the fortress level was the hottest in Masyaf. Sunlight filtered into the room she temporarily inhabited and she opened her eyes to greet a ceiling made of some kind of rock. No common day dropped ceiling told her she was still in 'Altaïr land' and that did not bode well for her. The man already seemed to make it a hobby to personally see her miserable and hated that she was practically his prisoner with the way he bossed her around.

She was suffocating in the robes and sat up dizzily to pull them over her head, leaving only the assassin pants that she kept and a linen undershirt that was practically transparent. Her skin was already sweaty under the bandages holding her chest down but she wasn't about to risk being seen half-naked in a century that would stone you just for showing your ankle.

_I mean, really, how did women survive like this in old eras?_, she thought in dismay and wiped at the stubborn dry spit that didn't want to leave its new home on her face. _And I can say goodbye to hygiene while I'm here because half the people I saw made Jack Shepard from Lost look like a red carpet celebrity on the island._

She took a moment to study the room she was in and definitely saw it as archaic in comparison to modern times. All the furniture was made of either wood or iron but knew Damascus steel was in use in this timeline due to the assassins swords. Her fingers kneaded the lumpy ancient bedding and winced at the cheap white fabric that held sheep's wool and straw inside.

"This is going to kill me!" she groaned miserably as the straw stuck out in lumps in several areas and took a deep breath before letting her eyes roam to the rest of the bed. A wooden framework supported the sack of wool but when she peeked over the side, she could see that wooden slats kept the 'mattress' in the air. A very large difference to modern day beds indeed. Vivian didn't feel safe on the shoddy looking thing at all and wished for a metal framework.

She didn't test her luck on the bed (for fear it would break) and stood up, walking to the nearest open window with had absolutely no kind of shutters. Great. On the bright side, there were very delicate decorations around the windowsill that reminded her of old Moroccan designs. All the countries of the old East would interact so much throughout the years through trade or conquering lands that their interaction would last centuries in their buildings. The moment she glanced outside the nicely designed window, however, she was faced with the raw reality that she was indeed in the Middle Ages.

Vivian gasped at the scenic view of the village below Masyaf and its tiny residents that moved below were proof that this was all real. A wave of dizziness struck her as she realized she was indeed stuck in 1191 and sighed miserably to conclude, "I guess third time's not the charm. Viv, old girl, we're definitely not in Kansas anymore."

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry for the lateness of the chapter, life and school didn't give me much time to write so I apologize for leaving the readers with nothing to read. Luckily, I have this month of January free so I want to update as many fics as I can (and there's a lot) and the next chapter to this one is almost complete. Thank you for the story alerts and the past reviews from _NaruVamp, Human Element, IpiRayan, TheLastShadow,_ and _TamieK_.

Next time we'll see the interrogation between Altair and Vivian, a new assassin character, and the start of Altair's adventure.


	6. Don't Forget To Pack Grass

CHAPTER 6:

**Don't Forget To Pack Grass  


* * *

**  
Vivian crept along the empty hallway of the topmost level of Masyaf, both in shock and awe that she was able to touch historic walls that were full of life at the moment instead of the empty decrepit version of her time. Her fingers traced over the gritty wall as she tried to scope out the hallway for anyone unknown that might see her and call her an infidel. It was annoying hearing it in the game and in this time, even more aggravating to the fact that they couldn't improve their vocabulary pool. Losing her head was not on her to-do list today and knew that damn assassin would be grinning from ear-to-ear at being judge, jury, and executioner.

_I blame my fangirl brain for bringing me here, I hope you're happy_, she thought sarcastically to her inner mind as her fingertips tapped against the walls. _We could've been learning about the Crusades from a book but no-o-o-o, you wanted to play AC. Now look where we are!_

She walked for minutes, wondering if Masyaf had invented mazes for its long corridors and was about to give up on finding an exit when she happened to literally stumble upon a stairway.

The hall had curved slightly as it reached the end of the floor and Vivian missed seeing the first step since rails were nonexistent there. She avoided falling down the stairs like a ball and possibly causing her first serious injury by digging her nails into the top step as the gritty stone scratched the tips. Her ankles hurt slightly since they took the brunt of the fall but she sighed aloud in relief.

"How do old people take the stairs here and not fall?" she pondered for a moment because the stairway just shot at you from nowhere and shook her head. This time frame wasn't to be taken lightly and she knew it would be throwing all of its archaic dangers at her. And here she thought Altaïr was the 1 danger to avoid.

With a disgruntled grumble, she descended the stairway to land on the lower floor without any freak accidents. Oh, what she'd give for an elevator. She sat on the last step to return her ragged and labored breathing back down to normal since the small stairwell could make anyone claustrophobic.

Kicking herself up again, she took a deep breath to muster her courage to travel onwards and walked down the hallway to face whomever resided there. There were few wooden doors on the level and she pushed each gently to pry them open discreetly, pulling the leather latch that stuck outside that served as the entry key for those that needed to open it from the outside. Of course, all Vivian saw were more of the awful lumpy beds, a few armoires, and an unoccupied room. She assumed they belonged to the assassins and shut each of the doors to hide her recent entrance.

Part of her was relieved to be alone where no danger would present itself but at the same time, had that sense of impending doom that the next door would have assassins pointing their shiny knives at her. Cue in the Benny Hill music and her frantic running around Masyaf would give the Crusades its first dark comedy.

The good thing about the hallways were that they were indeed cooler than the rooms themselves and the lower she descended on the levels, the better the temperature became to her clammy skin. By the fifth flight down and a lot of tired raggedy breathing later, Vivian wished there was a drop of water anywhere in the fortress to replenish her energy. Even sucking water from the wall crevices would've sufficed her cotton ball mouth.

Her hearing picked up a few clicks and disappointed grumbling from the end of the hall which put her on alert instantly since she was trespassing without Altaïr being none the wiser. Her back pressed against the warm wall that radiated the heat of the sun's rays and groaned mentally, wishing it was winter time instead. How was wintertime in Syria anyway? Shaking her head from her ponderings, she inched closer to the only door that was echoing noise down the hall and could hear the tinkering of metal going on from inside.

She took a careful peek over the open doorway and her eyes widened to see the entire room covered with metal creations, strewn papers, cut wood, and other materials needed for crafting. In the center, stood a young man of eighteen with suntanned skin and a shaggy mane of thick black hair while his angular face was covered in black soot in random areas.

Enthralled with what the man was doing at his work table, Vivian failed to notice that he'd become aware of her presence and his amused voice spoke up, "You may enter. I don't bite but I can't assure my creations won't."

Vivian jumped back at being discovered, cursing her curiosity for getting her noticed and reluctantly entered with short meek steps. It was a good thing his assassin robes were gray in several areas so she wouldn't have to feel embarrassed over her own dirty and sweaty apparel that would scare any hypochondriac. The young man set down the two metal pieces of copper he'd been holding and turned around to greet with a friendly smile, "Hmm, are you a new recruit that's lost? I've never seen you before. . .then again, most don't visit me on this level."

His tone of voice was tickling her curiosity again but in order to get information, she'd have to say something. She could either falsify her identity by clinging to the 'recruit' role or tell the truth and possibly alarm all of Masyaf.

"I'm, uh, Nadira" she lied with a small smile, using the only name she could think of to fit in this realm. Her background of historic culture in the Asian continent wasn't the best since she'd yet to take such classes and added in quickly, "I just arrived yesterday and am very lost."

"I didn't hear of any women joining the Order, it is a rare occurrence" he contemplated about that fact and Vivian's hands began to sweat as she believed she was done for. Any moment now, she'd be tied up by assassins and Altaïr would be sharpening an executor's sword without giving her a chance to explain. Instead, the young man smiled as he wiped a soot smudge on his cheek and spoke brightly, "You must have impressed the recruiters. Good for you."

Vivian wasn't a compulsive liar by all means but after learning enough history through her schooling, she found it easy to make up a decent back story using that and her fictional readings. She faked a small sigh that was becoming of a damsel in distress and took on a somber expression to explain, "My parents migrated from Alexandria after too much political conflict but it seems Jerusalem is the same nowadays with the Crusades. My family can't afford to feed six children so I decided to seek my own independence by selling candles from town to town."

She tried not to laugh at the made up job and sighed woefully for dramatics, "Oh, how I thought my goods would sell but apparently, people would rather buy from men rather than a woman. Business was down so I wandered the caravan roads all on my own, selling candles until I got tired of them. Candles weren't a good food staple so I had to do something! I decided to become a pickpocket at that point and in return for stealing people's goods, I placed my candles in their place," placing her hands on her hips, she posed dramatically and finished proudly, "Soon, I became 'The Candle Giving Burglar'."

Finishing her melodramatic lie, she expected the young man to call her out on it but found herself shocked when he stood there with a grin of excitement on his face, "Fascinating! I mean, your rise to being accepted. . .not the poor candle vendor part."

_Holy crap, he actually bought it_, she thought with shocked stupor and decided she liked his gullible sweet nature since he wasn't brandishing a knife at her.

He motioned to his work room that was piled with every malleable material imaginable and she couldn't see an inch of open space that was clear (except for the open windows that kept him from suffocating) as stocked shelves littered the place. With a polite bow of his head, he introduced himself, "I am Bashir. As you can see, I create many things for my brothers to aid in their missions but some of my ideas don't work out very well."

"You're an inventor?" she asked impressed to his job description since she'd expected an interrogator rank with his office location and he nodded agreeably. Suddenly, his appearance didn't seem as threatening as before- the friendly smile charmed her easily- and Vivian admitted slowly, "But you're so. . .young."

"Altaïr tells me the same, mostly because the majority of my gadgets backfire but I'm not a quitter" he sighed depressingly but thumped his chest with a determined fist. His face broke into a grin the next second as he declared proudly toward the ceiling, "My pepper bombs did the trick on blinding guards and I'm sure my skunk urine bombs will repel away enemies."

. . .

Bashir blinked with confusion at Vivian's abrupt deadpan face and asked, "What?"

"I think that would be dangerous for _both _the assassin and the enemy" she stated gently to dissuade him from such an idea that would have any unfortunate assassin coughing his or her lungs out. She did give Bashir the credit for attempting such a. . ._interesting _thing and asked with intrigue, "How in the world would you get skunk urine?"

The man tapped his soot covered chin with calloused fingertips (Vivian guessed from all the constant Spiderman climbing) and pondered aloud, "I'm not exactly sure. The forest would be my first try and trapping them would give me a sense of how to catch it."

He appeared deflated at his new idea being shot down by a rookie but understood the reasonable meaning behind the objection. Skunk urine was a good repellant but Bashir didn't think the Order would want to wash their robes ten times until all of the stink was gone and even then, they might create more robes and take it out on him for coming up with the idea in the first place. He decided to put it on the 'maybe' category for the time being and brightened up to ask, "Would you like to see my new invention?"

Vivian didn't mind that at all. . .as long as she could stand behind him in case of blowback. Bashir ushered for her to move to his wooden table that served as his workbench and revealed to her an average assassin's gauntlet before strapping it onto his wrist. His fingers hovered on the underside of the gauntlet as he explained excitedly, "See, what it does is that it shoots small knives as projectiles. The mechanics are still in development due to the lack of sufficient technology but with our modern crossbows, I've used the same schematics to work the small blade into it."

He pointed it toward the open doorway as she watched him carefully with hidden awe and he continued enthusiastically at seeing her complete attention, "All you need to activate it is the reflex of your fingers in similarity to revealing the hidden knife and from there. . ."

Bashir proceeded to demonstrate his new creation and shot the knife at the open doorway. Gleeful curiosity turned to horror on both their faces when Altaïr stepped through the doorway in all of his impassive glory and both awaited the man to be accidentally stabbed. Luck, however, was on their side and the knife went off at a different angle. . .stabbing the wooden door that rested against the wall to the left. The Grand Master stopped immediately as he saw the embedded knife, noticing how close he'd come to being injured in his own home and targeted the two culprits inside the room.

He knew Bashir was an innocent danger to society which is why he placed him on one of the highest floors where nobody but the most experienced had the stamina to climb. Bashir could only stammer nervously in fear when he was pinned by Altaïr's icy gaze and offered a genuine but shaky apology, "Grand Master, I-I-I- oh dear."

"Bashir, I've told you many times to close the door-" he began to reprimand tightly because windows served the purpose of providing air and nobody to accidentally impale through the doorway. His voice halted when he noticed a certain dark-haired woman in the room that kept irking him for the past day. Her feeble attempt to hide behind the inventor failed and the master assassin directed a feral glare at her to bellow, _"You!"_

"Gih!" she squealed in fear to his sudden rage spike and scuttled to the opposite side of the table for temporary protection from the assassin. It served as a decent shield and Vivian hoped to survive the new encounter with the dangerous Altaïr because he looked downright mad. It wasn't her fault the knife launched at him!

The young inventor was unaware to the true dynamics between the two individuals and innocently stated with a perky smile, "Oh, I see you've met our recruit, Nadira. She's very friendly-"

"The woman is a scheming liar" his leader spat acidly to cut off any charms the harpy might have succeeded with the young assassin and pointed a warning finger at Vivian to command coldly, "Get over here!"

"Like I'm really going to trust you not to hurt me with that crazy look in your eyes" she shot back wryly and kept dodging the man as he followed her movements fluidly across the table with his flexibility. Vivian took it as an advantage since she doubted he'd carelessly ruin all of Bashir's work by jumping over the table and groaned miserably when Altaïr brought everything into the open, "Her name is Vivian Bore-"

"Shore, you drowning sugar cube!" she cut in sharply at being wrongly named by the cruel beast and dodged a strong hand from across that tried to grasp the front of her shirt.

Altaïr didn't appreciate her disrespectful behavior nor her ability to keep dodging him and scolded his younger subordinate with the order, "Don't just stand there. Get her!"

Vivian didn't want to hurt Bashir's creations but for the price of her own life, grabbed a sharpened metal stick that was roughly two feet in length and had little straps of cloth tied around it with inches of space in between. Altaïr went on the defense since he'd no idea what it was and Vivian grinned wildly at finally having an ace up her sleeve. She made a throwing motion to the rude assassin but he paid her no heed, knowing he could knock her to the ground before she could strike with it. As he charged forward, she threw the metal stick with a triumphant 'hyah!' and he stopped to assess the situation. All three watched with deadpan expressions as the creation broke into three separate pieces in mid-air before clattering to the floor with a 'tink'. . .more than a feet away from Altaïr and actually _closer_ to Vivian.

"Hmm, you _really _should've thought that out" Altaïr commented dryly to the horrible execution of her retaliation and almost pitied the wench as she stared at the broken pieces.

The metal pieces rolled over the floor, prompting Altaïr to aim a glare at the woman as his anger renewed, and Vivian sighed in miserable defeat, "I must have the crappiest luck in the universe. Like Obi-Wan and Commander Shepard bad!"

He growled irritably to her nonsensical babblings and snapped harshly, "Wench, are you coming willingly or will I have to drag you kicking and screaming?"

"You dare to drag me and you'll be singing in alto for months, pal" she threatened to his horrible attitude and fisted her hand to show she meant business. Actually, she'd rather kick him in the family jewels than use her fist but he understood the meaning quite clearly. The two stared off to assert dominance over the other but a shattering sound of glass broke their gazes away.

They turned to see Bashir sullenly staring at a spot that was suddenly becoming cloudy with white smoke and he complained to accuse them, "Look what you made me do! Now the smoke gas will be everywhere."

Vivian took this opening to run into the getaway smoke that was now filtering in front of the doorway and covered her mouth as she accomplished her hasty escape. She knew watching those spy films were good for something. Altaïr didn't waste a second and chased after her with the same determination, leaving poor Bashir to fix his broken remnants of experiments.

He sighed softly to himself and grabbed a nearby broom from the corner of his workshop, mumbling under his breath, "Maybe I need to be on the _highest _level."

* * *

Altaïr had expected the woman to possess crafty skills worthy of a cunning spy that he could use as evidence against her lies and possible hidden schemes. . .but no. If at all, he might have had to _agree _with Malik after what he endured in witnessing over the past ten minutes.

He'd chased her down the stairways of Masyaf like a limber wolf while the woman staggered on every level like a sick deer, stumbling and falling more than once on every stairwell. The assassin decided to blame a lack of nutrition on her reflexes at first but when she fell in front of the main stairway that led to the base level that _nobody- _not even the blind_- _could miss, he began to have second thoughts on her resourcefulness.

As he had watched her sprawled on the floor on her back like a helpless turtle, Altaïr grabbed her by the right foot and proceeded to literally drag Vivian back up the stairs with no remorse. She didn't hesitate to use her last ounces of strength to kick him away, landing a well aimed kick to his rear end that resulted with a dusty foot imprint but yelped when her head struck the first step of the stairs. Poor Vivian had been ready to yell aloud about human rights when Malik came to her rescue and Altaïr reluctantly let him take her to the interrogation room.

And this is where the two found themselves as Vivian's clothes were wrinkled, dirty, sweaty, and lightly torn in several areas while Altaïr's appearance remained flawlessly immaculate. Oh, how she was growing to despise that damn smug character she'd grown to like playing as.

"Damn it, I should've bought the Ezio cutout" she muttered disdainfully under her breath and knew that damn purchase would ruin her life. Damn Ubisoft and its alluring characters. Why didn't she follow human instinct instead of fan girl hormones? She struggled in the chair he'd secured her in and glared at the floor to snap irately at herself, "At least he would've seduced me before killing me. I'm getting _nothing _from this guy!"

She wiggled her hands in an attempt to free them since Altaïr had tied them behind the chair and she hoped splinters would not be added to her list of troubles today. The temperature of the room was already warm enough and she groaned aloud, feeling beads of sweat already forming as she wondered how these people withstood the heat. She was ready to change clothes already and it was barely the afternoon!

_Maybe it's part of their training but I'm boiling like a lobster_, she thought uncomfortably and hung her head in defeat to her treatment.

"We're going to have a talk and if you do not behave," the assassin began coldly with a low tone that set the mood for the interrogation and unsheathed his hidden knife to carefully trail the sharp end over the line of her jaw as she trembled lightly, "we are going to have a problem. I'm sure you don't want me to hurt you, now do you, Vivian?"

Vivian tried to edge away from the knife as the cold steel felt alien to her warm flesh and cursed her impulsive nature when she argued back instantaneously, "You're lousy at reverse psychology if you're trying to be good cop/bad cop all in one."

A frustrated growl settled in his throat as the woman was grinding his last nerve and he dug into one of the handy pockets on his belt to grip a round metal object. He didn't want to turn into his former master but if the woman refused to give him the truth, there was only one ultimatum for an unruly prisoner (besides death). His voice was eerily calm along with his stoic face, in comparison to the grumbling Vivian who refused to meet his eye, and he stated coolly, "I didn't want to use this but if you won't answer my questions-"

A glint of silver caught her eye as his hand moved and Vivian closed her eyes instantly at knowing what that damn orb could do because what else could it be? He wasn't about to be holding a bomb of dangerous gas in this era. It was a shame she couldn't plug her ears to mute all her senses and snapped acidly to object, "Who do you think I am, Snow White? I'm not taking one bite from _that _apple, pal."

"So you do know what this is?" he grilled with a smug smirk at attaining an answer he'd been looking for but she resisted from opening her eyes and shooting him a flabbergasted look. Oh, how she itched to slap him silly.

"Of course I know! I've been telling you my whole damn story since we _met_!" she shouted indignantly to his lack of focus and grit her teeth because he wasn't getting her honesty through his thick cloak covered head. She scoffed under her breath since he'd be getting nothing but the truth anyway and remarked curtly, "If you don't want to believe me, fine. Why don't you go play drop ball with that thing!"

. . .

"Figure that out, smarty pants" she snorted dryly before spitting out a few salty droplets of sweat that fell on her lips. She'd always obeyed the rules and behaved politely with others to receive the same but never in her life did she think this kind of treatment was in store for her. Had karma gotten her name mixed in with a murderer's? Explanations were nonexistent in this hellhole of a life she was experiencing now and prayed to whatever deity truly existed in this timeline (the origins of the pieces of Eden weren't making it easier for each existing religion) to get her the heck out of there.

"Look at me, woman!" he demanded furiously to her audacity and she stuck out her tongue defiantly as she kept her eyes tightly closed. The second his fingers grasped her throat, she shut her mouth and wriggled in her seat because being strangled was not a good alternative to being stabbed or mind controlled. Her defense on verbal retaliation broke at his dangerous action as the possibility of sudden death frightened her to the core and she conceded with a strangled voice, "I'll tell you what you want! Just don't point your silver crystal ball or kill me without giving me the chance to bathe first!"

His fingers squeezed tighter against her windpipe and his ears were gratified by the fright he'd worked hard to induce since meeting her. She was willful like no other woman, with the exception of Maria whose features were vaguely similar. He knew how much pressure to apply on her throat to maintain consciousness and wouldn't break the bones of her throat unless he absolutely had to. Despite her annoyance, Vivian was still a civilian and was innocent until proven guilty. If he was a man of lesser honor, he would've snapped her neck seconds ago without waiting for her next breath. Sharply, he demanded the first answer, "Tell me your name."

He lessened the pressure to allow her frightened pipsqueak of an answer, "Vivian Shore."

His fingertips could feel the pulse of her artery beating faster than her labored breathing and decided to trust his instinct that she was correct. However, he wanted to delve as deep as he could into who this woman was and where she truly belonged.

"Who are your parents? Your family?"

Her eyebrows furrowed against her closed eyes as she replied hastily, "My father is Andrew Shore, born in Oregon and attended Complutense University of Madrid where he met my mother, Monica Ruiz. They married, came to the United States to each practice pharmacy and journalism where they had my sisters and I. They might be little devils but Penelope and Natalia are all that I have left of my mother, and we're all my father has. We live in a small home in Berkeley where I attend school and study history. I know it's not the best major with our crappy economy but I love it and my family needs me."

His grip loosened to the strange words but he'd heard of the city of Madrid, although very far and foreign, so he knew she was of Spanish origin. He'd ask her to speak its language to affirm her proposed claim but first, he wanted more information from the squeaking mouse that trembled. Unyielding, he kept the interrogation going, "Where do you hail from?"

"I told you, Berkeley" she insisted irritably and he pressed down on her windpipe again to get her talking. The compression hurt sharply as her chest cramped to the lack of oxygen in her lungs and Vivian rambled quickly, "Across the ocean, in the states, um, America. Oh god, how can I explain this without sounding crazy? That continent I showed you when I arrived, it has a place called Berkeley all the way to the west where it borders the next ocean, the Pacific, and that's where I live. The summers are dry and the winters are soaking wet, we get fog because of the bay and um. . ."

"How did you get here?" he snapped because her babbles about weather sounded a little too Mediterranean for him. Her claim on being from the west could solidify a case of espionage since Templars were rampant in just about every country.

"I don't know! That's why you all think I'm crazy" she blurted helplessly but her tone wavered as she furrowed her brows in concentration to recollect everything. If he wanted the truth, he could have every piece and she explained worriedly, "I. . .I was playing at home with my game system, playing your game-"

"_My _game?" he asked incredulously to what she preached religiously and resisted from laughing dryly at the ridiculous idea. His life, a game?

She nodded meekly as she treaded on thin ice with the assassin and answered quickly, "Assassin's Creed. . .well, there's also the sequel but Natalia hogs it to herself-"

He sighed with aggravation for her veering off the subject completely and ordered briskly, "Stay on point, woman."

"I was playing and I fell down after. . .well, something frightened me" she mumbled pitifully to hide what _really _happened between her fear of an inanimate Altaïr cutout and her unscheduled trip to meeting the floor. That was a part that definitely needed to be left out to save the last shreds of her dignity and she fast forwarded to the end which was all he really wanted, "I hit my head pretty badly and blacked out-"

"Blacked out?" he asked carefully with a bit of confusion to her phrase and she slumped in her chair at his lack of knowledge on common day phrases. What was the phrase in this time? Vivian reminded herself to be careful since history pertaining to the pre-1600s was all about religion with little mind to scientific explanations so her futuristic talks could have her on a burning pyre or on the gallows by sundown.

"Yes, it means 'fainted' and 'unconscious'. . .you know, what _you _did to me when we were heading here" she pointed out dryly because she didn't appreciate being knocked out like that. The back of her neck was already sore with a bruise from it and being dragged up the stairways on her back didn't help it any.

Not wanting to test his patience on choking prisoners, she finished hastily to set herself free, "Anyway, I woke up in front of a house as people walked by in the street and I thought my sisters played a joke on me because I wouldn't put it past them. However, my clothes were entirely different and I felt out of place immediately with the lack of diversity there. In my world, people of all cultural backgrounds walk the streets so I was really taken aback. Culture shock, if you will. I tried to help a little child but apparently, murder in public is still okay in this era but in mine, you'd be spending a lifetime sentence in jail. Long story short, I ran from the guards and bumped into you so immediately, I concluded I was dreaming so," her flushed cheeks reddened further to what she'd blurted aloud in his presence and muttered uncomfortably, "um. . .I said some pretty stupid things, didn't I?"

"Not as illogical as this" he mumbled with an exhausted sigh because the answers she gave weren't what he was looking for. She kept spouting nonsense that could fit in a carefully crafted make believe world. . .or an authentic one. Gritting his teeth, he began pulling at strings to see if she cracked under the pressure and asked coldly, "What are Templars?"

"You mean the bucket heads that take forever to die?" she muttered dryly to the annoying antagonists that popped out of nowhere and the blasted showdown with Robert's followers near the end of the game. Her tied hands clenched at the bothersome Templars that had her pulling her hair out at times and she spat acidly, "I wish there was a button where you could take off that stupid helmet and beat them to death with it."

The master assassin stared at her outburst with bewilderment since he expected her to declare the Templars as her glorious associates rather than the colorful words she used. Flatly, he finalized with regretful admittance, "I assume you hate them."

"You're damn right I do, they gang up on you and bring along those stupid city guards with their 'infidel' but instead of having a triple threat fight, you end up being the number one enemy!" she exclaimed huffily to all the grief they'd given her, with one particular instance that had her fighting off a Templar and fourteen guards, and Altaïr decided to switch the subject away from that. He understood none of her 'game' babble but her scathing words against the Templars was easily detectable.

"If you aren't lying, tell me everything you know about my world" he demanded coldly to decipher the truth in her words but wasn't comforted by the tiny smirk that grew on her oval face.

"Starting from Solomon's Temple or when you became a novice all over again?" she asked casually in regards to everything she'd played on the AC games or read about online when her geeky mind was idle and bored. Her cocky tone didn't reassure Altaïr, whose unyielding mind was screaming that she was lying when every word starting with his arrival at that temple began to pour out from her mouth.

Unfortunately, his hesitance brought on her knowledge to his mission at Solomon's temple and every vivid detail she described pushed her status away from 'spy' and 'lunatic' to the impossible 'time traveler'. She knew her way around Damascus, Acre, and Jerusalem despite not knowing a thing about current times when he asked his own series of questions which had him breaking the skin of his palms with his clenched fingers. His conversations with people during his adventures flowed from her tongue as easily as he'd spoken each word months ago and he had no use for the Apple as her green eyes peered into his without flickering away. A liar would not hold their interrogator's eyes for such a long time and by the time she finished, Vivian had recounted the entire ordeal with the piece of Eden.

"I'd tell you what happens after that but I don't want to ruin the space-time continuum and ruin the future for the Order" she mumbled sheepishly about the possibility of collapsing the entire universe since physics wasn't her field and smacked her dry lips together. Her mouth felt like a cotton ball already and she asked with a tired ragged voice, "Do you believe me _now_?"

_Yes, do you believe her?_, his own mind echoed as he imagined Malik's face telling him 'I told you so' later on and grit his teeth at this new inconvenience. He wanted to be rid of her altogether but now, he had to figure out what to do with her. _How do I deal with a woman that actually traveled through time? It's. . .inconceivable!_

Her breath shook from the surreal fearful life she was now living and she insisted, "I'm telling the truth. I don't need a reason to lie, not even under the Apple's control. You could ask me anything and I'd try to answer it to the best of my knowledge. All I know is that I'm lost here, Altaïr, and I don't know what to do. As man who's changed for the better, I plead for you to understand my plight. Please?"

Vivian was on the verge of tears because being alone without anybody familiar was painful enough and flinched when he walked forward, his form imposing over hers as she feared the worst. She expected a slap or a fierce yell to the face and closed her eyes as her body betrayed her by trembling. Her stubborn façade could stand up to anything in her time but being blasted back to the 12th century could shatter anyone into a mental breakdown. Seconds later, she heard cutting from behind and her hands became free from their imprisonment as her back muscles relaxed to the release of pressure. She drew her hands forward to massage the sore wrists, rubbing the red skin gingerly in an attempt to soothe it, as she glanced warily at him to ask with a whisper, "Why?"

"Because as much as I hate to admit it, you're being truthful" he muttered flatly with a scowl because he _really _didn't want to release her and wanted all of his assumptions to be true. It would be so much easier to be done with her but apparently, his life was never going to be easy and Altaïr had to regrettably accept the new problem called 'Vivian'. She already reminded him of a peasant child with her unkempt appearance as she glanced at him suspiciously and he stated coldly with authority, "Your life is spared so I suggest you take full opportunity to live it. Others aren't so lucky."

"I'm in the _past_, I'm liable to die here within the week" she pointed out bluntly because her street smarts for this era were nonexistent and crossed her arms to sigh aloud. Oh, she would hate herself forever for pleading to that arrogant man but saw no other alternative, "I hate to ask but. . .I need help going home. I know you and Malik are doing some super secret assassin stuff but if there's a library or anyone that's heard-"

"There's never been a case like this, it's preposterous" he admitted stiffly because he wasn't that cruel to kick her out on her ass to fend for herself (although his ego laughed at the idea) and shook his head, leaning back against the desk. Despite her unfailing ability to irk his nerves, her apparent knowledge of the past and future could bring great insight and value to him on quest. He wagged a warning finger at her sweat stained face and squashed any ideas she had for going public with her circumstances, "If you breathe a _word _of it, people will call you insane and lock you in an asylum."

She bit her lip at having such limited options in this realm and wanted to curl up forever to ignore the real situation. It was unbearable to know she was stuck without a chance at going home and the thought of never seeing her family again was agonizing. She held her head with her hands, digging her fingers into her dark wavy locks that were now sweaty from the day's events, and blurted fearfully to him, "But I have to go home. I don't belong here! This isn't my home, I don't know anything about this age. I. . .I. . .I'm all alone here."

Altaïr knew he was going to regret saying the words the second they left his mouth and offered simply, "You can travel with Malik and I. As much as I hate to say it, you'd be a valuable asset on our team with your knowledge. You're the only one who can find the answers to your questions but maybe, the pieces of Eden can help."

"Is. . .you're going to find the pieces? _All _of them?" she gaped with both astonishment and skepticism to what he was revealing to her. Then again, he was offering sanctuary rather than letting her beg in the streets so she'd be thankful. However, the unexpected revelation made her wonder why information like this hadn't appeared in the game franchise. Her voice stammered as she pointed out, "B-But in the game-"

"This is reality, _not _a game, Vivian" he cut in sharply to remind her of that grave fact and she nodded silently because she was now in that current boat as well. His white robed imposing form made that real enough and she picked at a shredded piece of the robe material on her sleeve with her fingertips but the assassin cut off her sudden interest by proposing, "I am offering you a chance to accompany us-"

"Have you noticed I know nothing of your world?" she sighed depressingly because she was useless to anybody at this point and rubbed her sweaty forehead as she wondered why he wanted her to tag along. Was he still mistrustful? Did he truly want to help her? Could she actually help _him_? Her wrists stung as she fanned her face to lessen the heat and croaked tiredly, "I'm melting already and I don't even know what you bathe with!"

Taking a few calm breaths, she stared at him directly to request earnestly, "_If_ I go, you must be able to tolerate my crazy questions and behavior because most likely, I'll be at the level of a child here. I'm from across the ocean, my lifestyle and beliefs vary greatly in comparison to yours but I will try my hardest to understand how you live. All I ask for is a little understanding and support. . .and an extra water canteen, I'm used to six glasses a day-"

"_Six?" _he blurted with incredulous surprise to her request because she'd be lucky to get four and she shrugged meekly to put on an innocent ploy. He didn't take the bait because she would get the same treatment as Malik and muttered darkly under his breath, "You better not have the appetite of a cow."

"Hey, that's insulting! My appetite is a least a shrew's or a panda's!" she retorted since her appetite would soar to compare with the animals mentioned if she'd be backpacking across the planet with the assassins. Altaïr blinked in bewilderment to her comment on the most hungry animals and she sighed depressingly into her hands to groan, "See? Even my modern day jokes are useless!"

The assassin aimed a deadpan stare at the woman as their interaction was quickly becoming puzzling and a little irritating. He was never the best speaker in social interactions, only interrogations, and his mind itched to find an exit to be rid of the conversation. He motioned to the door since he had nothing more to speak to her about and turned away from his desk to open the door's latches with hasty fingers as the need to leave her behind overwhelmed him for a moment. A woman like Vivian would cause more trouble than she was worth but his need for aid on the mission would make her incredibly valuable. Altaïr didn't know whether his decision to keep her was a chivalrous act or simply to use her as an asset against the Templars.

Waving a dismissive hand at Vivian, who was now turning the skirt of her robe into shorts by ripping fabric and tying it together around her thighs, he withheld an aggravated groan and ordered simply, "I will send someone to help you draw a bath. . .and new robes. Dinner will be in a few hours so I will allow you to wander the fortress at ease. I'd suggest not interacting with anybody yet so stay away from the village," he mulled over that last word and hastily added, "In fact, stay inside Masyaf, the last thing I need is to discover you in the middle of a mob like last time."

"Anything else?" she asked dully with a frown to being treated like a child or a dirty secret and stood up to stretch in the weirdest positions Altaïr had ever seen. To him, a squat, a jumping jack, and a few yoga stretches were like a Rubik cube as she tried to work out the knots in her muscles. That and the fact she was doing her odd 'dance' in front of him with torn clothes gave away her lack of mannerisms in his era. This new development would be a heavy challenge for Altaïr.

"Just. . ._just go_" he sighed gloomily to the confusing woman in his midst as she stopped her movements to blink at him with those emerald eyes and Altaïr seriously hoped he wouldn't lose his mind on this new adventure.

* * *

"Seriously, do we need to get up _before _the crack of dawn to start?" Vivian yawned tiredly since she got little hours of sleep on her 'hay bed' as she called it and had woken with sore achy muscles. Even her sister's pet rabbit had a better bed than hers last night.

She'd been jerked awake from the comfort of dreamland by furious banging on the door since Altaïr had taken his time getting up, bathing, and eating but the woman had done nothing. Instead, he'd resorted to handing her a bucket of water with a washrag and a loaf of bread to improvise a quick bath and meal while Vivian practically fainted in horror at what she had to do. He hadn't even given her soap! The master assassin was dressed neatly in crisp white clothing that she had no idea on how he kept clean in this dusty era because whites that white needed bleach for perfect maintenance. Maybe it was an assassin's secret? Malik was dressed as an everyday man to play his part as an innocent bystander on their search for the pieces of Eden. Vivian was certain he'd do fine with his polite mannerisms and acute perceptiveness.

As for Vivian, she'd been lucky enough to find decent clothing and by decent, she meant it was the smallest size in men's clothing which left her robes drooping over the ground due to her shorter stature. Since Altaïr forbid her travels to the village, she'd learned nothing on women's clothing and without money, she was stuck with the appearance of a man and the face of a woman. It's not that she had a problem being a tomboy, it was just that appearing male could insult people and embarrass her further in this century. So as Altaïr prepared the last of his own clothes in his traveling sack by dumping them inside without a care, Vivian fixed hers neatly like a salesperson at Macy's while frowning to the horrible chocolate color that offered no femininity. At least a maroon stripe somewhere in the garb would've helped.

"So how do you afford clothes? In the game, all I saw was the assassin clothes and a bunch of sharp fancy weapons but no money" she asked curiously as she dragged along her heavy pack (she made sure blankets were thick enough for the cold nighttime) that was full of necessities. Both men had to stop and gawk at the sack's size because it was the largest out of the three, completely dwarfing their own packs as she tugged it with all her might. Altaïr was inclined to point out she'd have to carry it throughout their travels but decided to keep that piece of information to himself to annoy her later. Despite her lugging, Vivian's mouth kept running like an engine as she rambled on, "You're almost like Robin Hood. Stealing for yourself and helping the innocent-"

_"Vivian!"_ Altaïr reprimanded because he didn't want to put up with her silly questions this early in the morning and pressed a finger to his lips to order, "Shh!"

She obeyed unwillingly because being left behind to fend for herself was scary enough but dared the question, "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

"To the land of the old Pharaohs" Malik answered her courteously and she smiled widely at the new adventure. With the trip from Jerusalem taking two days, she suspected that Egypt would be more than a week at best. Frankly, she'd no idea on it but took the optimistic route since international travel had never occurred in her life and decided to have fun this time. True, the fear of survival would remain in her mind but knowing that the two men believed her story somewhat soothed her inner worries. Malik, being extremely perceptive, glanced at her as she tried to tie her pack onto Shadowfax to no avail and asked casually, "Has the fright left you, Vivian?"

She chuckled to the accent on her name which Altaïr ironically lacked because the blasted man actually pronounced it correctly. Malik helped her tie the pack onto the poor mare who kept snorting at the air whenever Vivian dropped it and she explained modestly, "I've never traveled outside my country. Traveling over the ocean on planes makes me uneasy but I always wanted to explore the old East, mainly Europe. In my time, it takes about a day of travel-"

"A day?" both assassins exclaimed to her claim about travel and she jumped back in surprise to their shocked expressions. Even Altaïr appeared taken aback by her statement.

"Well, yes, large aircraft can carry us over the ocean. . .you know, like a closed boat that flies with metal wings and um, a lot of fuel?" she tried to explain with sloppy hand gestures but failed horribly as both men blinked with a deadpan expression. Yeah, her new life here wasn't getting of to a big start and wished she'd been blasted into 1955 like Marty McFly. Rubbing a hand down her forehead, she changed the subject hastily to avoid more questions she'd probably botch, "So, we're going to Egypt?"

That broke the ice and Vivian received multiple answers to her questions on how they would get there. The whole campfire trip from Jerusalem already made her uneasy about being in the open where danger was unavoidable. Well, maybe not the men since they could butcher anything in sight but all she could use was a stick and that wouldn't defeat any kind of enemy except a bug.

Altaïr aimed to keep his promise of keeping her alive (mostly because of her knowledge) and informed her, "Malik and I will teach you what you need to know about building a fire, making a tent, hunting for food-"

"Hunting?" she blurted in shock because killing an innocent animal was _not _how she wanted her food platter to start as. She couldn't stand seeing an animal die, even if it was for survival purposes in the wilderness and shook her head to refuse sternly, "No, I can't hunt an animal. If you need me to prepare and cook it for you, fine, but absolutely no hunting."

Altaïr snorted to her squeamishness because sensitive women like that grinded his patience like nothing on Earth. Well, that and those annoying peasants that interfered with his kills and apparently, they irritated Vivian's strange 'game life' as well. The woman was peculiar with her outlandish habits but he had to grudgingly accept the idea that she was there to stay due to her sudden unexplainable drop into his world. It was too late to kick her off the trip since she seemed curious to go and having her blab her predicament across the village would embarrass him as a leader. So, he would have to do his honorable duty and keep her on a short leash by ordering her around, "Fine, if it will stop your screeching."

Vivian grit her teeth and stepped forward to knock him upside the head but Malik stopped her immediately by pulling her back by the waist. She thrashed for a few seconds like a rabid wolverine before giving up in the man's grip to mutter, "He better lose the attitude by the time we cross the border."

"Let's head out" their troop leader ordered simply and Vivian sulked as she knew a numbed ass would be the end result at their first pit stop. Malik, being the gentleman, helped Vivian with a step up onto her horse and she thanked him with a chirpy 'thank you' that had Altaïr rolling his eyes underneath his hood. With him, she behaved like a cornered jackal but with Malik, she turned into a loyal puppy; it irked him. Making sure her pack was tied onto Shadowfax safely, Malik patted the horse's hindquarters as he headed off to his own. Seeing both men climb onto their respective horses with fluid ease, Vivian hoped she could update her own skills as the days passed because asking for a constant boost up would certainly irritate them and shame her.

"And here I thought we'd be like the three amigos wandering into the horizon for great adventure and riches like in the stories of old. . .well, _near future _in this time" she sighed listlessly for trying to cheer up the atmosphere this early in the morning and gently kicked her mare's side to signal for her to follow behind Altaïr's horse.

Malik tried to cheer her up by pointing out, "But we _are _headed for adventure by seeing distant lands."

Her face wrinkled in displeasure to the type of adventure the crazy Altaïr sought and just knew she'd be seeing him jumping out of five story windows and landing perfectly in haystacks. Hell, he'd probably burn wooden bridges and run from flurries of arrow volleys. She wouldn't be surprised if she got hit in the butt with an arrow or became the unexpected but convenient hostage. Finding the pieces of Eden was a race of time against the deadly Templars and she didn't hesitate to state bluntly, "No, we're heading into suicide because Mr. Grand Pastor-"

"Master!"

Her expression turned cocky to his irritated outburst and she preened airily, "Oh, so you don't like it when people get _your _name wrong. So tell me, how do you expect to efficiently fight off Templars when all you have is a lost time traveler and a dai? I'm certain Malik can hold his own but two assassins against a group of bucket heads, who are heavily armored I might add, doesn't exactly fill me with confidence on our survival rates."

"The point of being secretive is to take a small group but if you protest so much, then you are welcome to stay here with your tail between your legs" Altaïr admonished coldly with gritted teeth to being questioned on his carefully laid out plan by an inexperienced civilian and didn't turn back to acknowledge her concerns.

"I didn't say I was scared and I already am with traveling under the sun with no sunscreen, no filtrated water, and no toothbrush" she pointed out shrewdly to his acidic words and would have to stock up on verbal ammunition to shoot back during their travel spats. She waved her right hand for the dai's attention and called out, "Malik, if I die, can you promise me something?"

The kind dai turned to her with a sympathetic glance to ease her worries about an early death, "We will take care of you, Vivian. But if I must be honor bound to such, speak your mind."

"When I die, I want Altaïr to be buried _alive _with me" she piped up perkily with an evil little smirk and the master assassin's cheeks puffed out in fury as he prepared to unleash a barrage of curses at her. How dare she request such a thing?

Malik quickly cut in to defuse the Vivian-Altaïr morning bomb and politely replied to her request, "As you agree, young Vivian."

"You're agreeing with _her_? I'm your leader, your friend, your brother, your-"

"Braying donkey?" Vivian joked wittily to his mad ranting that had the other man glowering at her from his horse but she purposely ignored his glares of death. With Malik around, he was harmless. She patted her mare's side before pointing her finger into the air to declare ecstatically, "Onward, my steed!"

"You do know horses can't listen to vocal orders like that?" Altaïr snorted sardonically to knock her down a few from her smug pedestal. Her personality kept clashing with his dangerously and the longer he spent time around her, the faster he wanted to break her neck.

Vivian turned the tables when she shot him a Cheshire grin and drawled smugly, "I was talking to _you_."

* * *

**A/N**: Obviously, the title is in link to the show 'Adventure Time' and if anyone watches it, there were two scenes (Finn's flute and that ghost that played 'drop ball') that I used in this chapter because Vivian's just that crazy. I've been very sick the last month but luckily, this ten page chapter turned into fifteen with the extra editing so now you know the destination of our heroes. . .and the lost Vivian. Next chapter has them traveling into Egypt, near the Nile riverbank, and we see Altaïr wrestling a crocodile for your enjoyment. Thank you for all the story alerts and last chapter reviews:

_NaruVamp_: Yeah, Vivian will keep annoying Altaïr until the two are forced to work together while Malik just plays big brother (or keeper) to the two.

_IpiRayan_: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like Vivian. I try very hard not to make her Mary Sue-ish in any way.

_Bijou le Anima_: This story's pretty humor filled like most of my other stories but it'll have the Altaïr/Vivian fluff in later chapters when they're not killing each other.

_Hollownature_: Glad you like the story!

_Neuron Deficiency_: I'm pleased that the readers love Vivian and unlike some fanfics where the futuristic OC takes on the assassin/jedi path, Vivian will be looking to how to make a fire to survive the night. Of course, Altaïr and Malik will be teaching her things as they travel so she'll be learning survival tactics.

_xoxo Lucifer's Daughter_: Vivian will keep getting under his skin because she second guesses him at every turn and he loves being in charge. The romance portion between the two won't be the average story with Altaïr saying 'I love you, let's live happily ever after in my time' because no, Vivian does have her own life to return to and there's the fact that Maria's still around. Love is a bumpy road and it's never easy because conflicts arise and compromises must be made. I'll leave the plot twists undercover for now. Thanks for the review!

_Tainted Tuesday_: Vivian's a feisty and mouthy little thing, ain't she? It's funny how she started off badmouthing Ezio against her sister and now that she met Altaïr, she actually wants to meet Ezio instead. Ha.


	7. Land of the Pharaohs and Crocodiles

**Disclaimer**: I own no parodies of 'The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air' theme.

* * *

**The Land of Pharaohs . . .and Man Eating Crocodiles  
**

* * *

The entire trip was anything but a day of exciting camping at a state park or trekking a forest since Altaїr absolutely refused to make any detours that would allow Vivian any scenic overviews. He'd declared it quite bluntly on the first day when she wanted to soak her feet in a gentle river where cows drank just to bask in what 12th century life was like for everyday people (present company excluded). She'd wanted to see the grazing cows of caramel brown and black onyx march with their owners and had asked him with the kindest believable voice, her heart soaring with hope when his lips gave the tiniest uplift of a smile but the assassin merely crushed her hopes with, "Since it means so much to you. . ._no_. And don't you dare ask about anything else or I'll blindfold you."

Obviously, she asked him for nothing after that and stuck to Malik like glue since he didn't hesitate to help her with his calm manner of speaking. She didn't understand the assassin's cold personality, he'd been the one who offered her refuge in his group rather than have her exploring Masyaf alone! She wasn't a Templar and she'd yet to show him otherwise since most of the time, she used a stick for protection (which was not the most reliable against stray animals) and pocket sand to blind bothersome individuals that ventured too close.

So far, day one had brought her a crap load of sun and Altaїr found it hilarious as he watched her try to find a shady spot in an open desert land with absolutely no tree coverage. The second day had her groaning in pain from the long horse ride numbing her backside and trying to hide the pink cheeks the sun had painted on her face from overexposure. The third day brought on the painful sunburns as she woke to greet the sun with a face full of red blotchy skin and inwardly cried at the lack of sun block and future appearance of sun spots. By the afternoon, she was hiding in her robes like a frightened bat to avoid sun exposure as they crossed Syria's border to head into the land of Israel. She didn't blame children for pointing at her tomato colored face but when men began to comment, Malik and Altaїr had to hold her back from causing an incident with her handy pocket sand.

By the fourth day, Altaїr himself was wincing when her skin began peeling off in similarity to the delicate layers of an onion and finally relented to giving her a few hours of shade during their stops. . .but made up his lapse in cruelty by nagging that she was delaying their trip. The fifth day was worse than the fourth as the assassins watched in mortification as her dead skin fell off like a snake's during shedding season and almost gagged when they saw a few flakes fall into her hen soup during lunch. They were kind enough to lead her astray when she asked what was wrong and left her blissfully unaware to what she was truly eating; ignorance was bliss, right? Day six brought relief to Vivian as they stopped to eat breakfast at a small home establishment and her yogurt meal served as a moisturizing mask for her parched skin, leading Malik to inform people that there was nothing wrong with her as she plastered it on and it was a beauty trick she'd picked up in a foreign land (in which Vivian had cheerfully added in, 'the Indo-Iranians'). Day seven unleashed a maelstrom when her stomach couldn't handle the sudden changes to the outside environment and she would've traded her right hand for a bottle of pepto bismol. Vivian was certain she had set a historic record for being the first with violent diarrhea as she used every outhouse during their stops; of course, she didn't tell the men that for risk of mortification.

Altaїr's patience was tested greatly throughout the entire trip from her allergic sneezes to dirt, her refusal to eat a crow, her pickiness over drinking water from pools, and the straw that broke the camel's back came when she accidentally fell into his hammock during the middle of the night- completely caving in the tent on top of him and almost causing suffocation! Of course, the damnable woman was able to sleep comfortably in hers after he finished yelling at her (his patience was not completely diplomatic in her company) while he had to share Malik's tent and bear his random stretching throughout the night. Vivian could've written steamy fan fiction about the two from thoughts alone of what went on in there but she wouldn't do that to sweet Malik. Altaїr, definitely, but not her gentle friend. By the time they crossed into the Gaza strip, he was tired, cranky, and sporting a beard despite he'd shaved everything _but _his chin that very morning.

Thankfully, the Assassin's Order had a bureau near the entry point into Egypt and Altaїr had used his new rank of Grandmaster to gain lodgings in separate rooms for at least two nights to relax from the journey. Of course, the climb onto a rooftop was practically impossible for Vivian since she lacked Spiderman qualities and she'd almost fainted from humiliation when Malik pointed out there was a wooden ladder hidden nearby for use whenever an assassin was injured and couldn't make the climb. This brought the first laugh from Altaїr's lips as he'd watched her stop scratching at the wall with her fingernails and scamper off to find it with her head hung down.

Vivian had been nothing short of a curious cat around the village and just as the saying went about said cat, she'd almost fallen into a newly dug well as she explored the land but Malik managed to save her in time. With Malik's loss of an arm, his stability on maintaining balance needed work as he interacted in public settings where danger constantly loomed and it fell on Altaїr's shoulders to come to both of their rescues. Needless to say, he kept Vivian with a rope wrapped around her waist to make sure she didn't do anything stupid under his watch since she tended to be quite the chatty woman and could accidentally slip out something she wasn't supposed to. It was humiliating to be led around like a dog on a leash and she'd stolen one of his hidden knives while he napped inside the bureau but when she attempted to escape, she'd been pinned against the adjacent wall within seconds by another blade that he'd thrown into her skirt as he smirked superiorly. Their short stop allowed him to learn recent information about Templar activity in the land of the old pharaohs and gained an advantage at knowing a regiment was established near their target area and moving closer to the city of Cairo.

They had left their faithful steeds with the Gaza liaison since their journey into new lands could prove perilous for the animals and all three had grown fond of their horses so they wouldn't risk any danger to them. The two stallions and Shadowfax would be returned to Masyaf during a trade caravan between the Order branches while the three companions would travel on foot until reaching the nearest Egyptian village to find an inn since Order bureaus were nonexistent in the new land. This was a problem that Altaїr aimed to remedy with his new role to keep the world secure against the Templar threat and spreading sects throughout different lands would ensure security and increase their ranks to carry out successful assassinations.

However, as their adventure continued onwards, they found themselves trekking through rocky and desert terrain that bothered their raw blisters and dry eyes as they sought for a sign of the Nile River to guide them south. The arid desert land had to eventually fade into the rich riverbanks littered with the dark deposits of fertile soil that aided Egyptian agriculture in this era but until then, the trio would march on. The early morning proved to be adequate with its cloud cover of puffy cotton clouds and a light breeze that brought brief relief to their hot skin as they traveled and the two men spoke amongst themselves while Vivian occupied herself by replaying TV shows in her mind. With nothing but the wind whispering in her ear and cooling her warm scalp, she decided to entertain herself with her own creativity and Altaїr's brown eyes widened into horror when her off-key voice began,

"_Now this is the story all about how  
My life got flipped turned upside down  
And I'd like to take a minute so sit down, Malik  
And I'll tell you how I became the Lost Girl In the Crusades_

_In West America, born and raised  
In the library is where I spent most of my days  
Reading history that was worthwhile  
Or playing some PS3 games from a pile  
When an Assassin cutout who was up to no good  
Starting making trouble and bonked me on the head_

_I got in one unfair fight and the gaming gods got scared  
So they said, "You're moving in with  
Altaїr and the Brotherhood in 1190 AD."  
I wound up in Syria and things were less clear  
Like I could be called 'infidel' for simply talking here  
If anything, I could say that this place is scary  
But I thought 'nah, forget it, let's go do something legendary!'_

_I found Altaїr about seven or eight  
and I yelled, 'You're imaginary!'  
Fell into a building and was smacked into reality  
to where I now ride a horse in the Crusades."  
_  
She broke into a peppy hum of 'nah-nah-nah' while both men stared with bewilderment to the strangest of rhyming songs that flowed from her mouth. It's not that they were breathtaking in lyrical talent or voice- far from it- it was the fact that she seemed to create them out of thin air with a peculiar but catchy tune. . .which of course, irked the master assassin. He'd brought her along for the knowledge she claimed to have about his world and to keep her from becoming lost but he did _not _assign her the role of a singing bard. His brow furrowed as sweat clung to his eyebrows from the heat gathering under his white hood and he barked acidly in her direction, "Would you stop singing about everything we do?"

"You didn't complain when I sang about you cleaning your socks!" she shot back matter-of-factly to a tune she'd done the previous afternoon at a small river where they had washed their clothing in seclusion. Malik and Vivian had no trouble cleaning their clothes- mostly because they rarely wore white in public- but Altaїr had been a whole different matter with his color matching clothes. With the nonexistence of bleach, Vivian was at a loss as to how the man kept his clothes a pristine white (seriously, didn't blood splatter cling to clothes?) and had actually watched him through the process to see how many washes it actually took since washboards were also absent before the 1800s. As a peace offering, she had sewn him a pair of white cotton socks (it took her many days to find cheap cotton fabric as they traveled but her bartering skills were improving with Malik's help) so the obsolete version of his linen/leather contraption wouldn't blister his feet. She'd never forget the boggled look on his face when he believed they were fabric containers for their dried meat and proceeded to stop him from ruining the pair as she explained the purpose. The downside had been getting the cloth to retain its pristine white color since the man was rather obstinate about keeping everything to his expectations. To Vivian, it screamed the beginnings of obsession compulsive disorder or anal retentiveness.

Either way, the two had been forced to wait as he scrubbed the cotton socks on a rock slab as he lathered them while scrubbing them with a wooden brush made of rough bristles. It had reminded Vivian of the ancestor of Cinderella's floor scrub brush as she watched his face wrinkle with concentration as he used the strength in his toned arms to clean the hell out of it. As a woman who did her own laundry back home, it was a very good turn on to see a man so determined to clean a stubborn stain and watching him rock back-and-forth didn't help either. Malik had decided to count the clouds passing by overhead as he was given a moment of peace from the chaotic life in the Order while Vivian decided to chew on a blade of grass as she relaxed on the ground with the carefree smile of Huckleberry Finn except in her case, that title went to Altaїr. Really, the man had quite a mouth on him on one occasion when Vivian took hay to make the inside of her clothes warm between layers during the cold desert nights- which meant less toilet paper when a certain someone had needed to dart off into the woods to take care of business.

"That was different- it was about socks, not you!" he snarled curtly since the song had been rather catchy as he washed bothersome stains (oh, how he hated them) and being guests at the bureau put a damper on his diplomatic persona because blowing up on her would have gossip spreading on trading routes faster than fire on oil. He had allowed her to indulge then as his demeanor as a leader slipped and in hindsight, his focus should've been on both his washing and shutting her up.

She raised her chin defiantly as her posture straightened in confrontation mode and Malik knew the peace from sunrise would no longer continue as she stated airily, "All right then, socks it shall be!"

"_This is the way we wash our socks,  
Rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub-dub;  
See them getting clean and white,  
Rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub-dub  
This is the way- __**ow**__!"_

The last screechy note signaled the end of her tune as Altaїr used the hilt of one of his throwing knives on the back of her head to knock her unconscious in one calculated blow. Vivian's body slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes a second later and the assassin nodded to himself with satisfaction to his actions, uncaring to the prone form laying by his feet. Malik, however, stared at the unconscious woman with pity in his eyes since singing was the only crime done and he glanced at his friend to state dryly, "This is the fifth time you've done that. Eventually, you may end up damaging her skull."

"I don't think there's much of a brain in there and I used the _hilt_" Altaїr dismissed nonchalantly as he pocketed the knife in a leather bag tied to his waist and patted it with a small smirk to his weapon's good job performance. He shot Malik a devil may care grin as he regretted nothing of what he'd just done and pointed out smugly, "Trust me, if I wanted to do worse, the blade would've broken inside her skull the second I stabbed it in there."

The dai could only shake his head in disbelief to his words as Altaїr grabbed the woman by the waist to fling her over one shoulder without trouble. After the last four times he'd done this, he'd mastered how to shift her weight onto one shoulder alone and with her shorter stature and weight, it was pretty easy for him to carry her on their journey. She was basically another piece of luggage to him since she no longer tried to take a bite out of his back as she had during their first meeting and part of him had a nagging suspicion that she allowed him to continue walking when she woke up by feigning unconsciousness. Malik watched the woman's head dangle over his friend's back as her black hair contrasted brightly against his friend's white robes and he sighed with a flat voice, "Well, at least you behaved yourself back there. There were moments when I believed we would reenact the events at Masyaf."

"My new status requires refined patience and insight to diplomacy but rest assured that nobody will mar my honor, especially her" Altaїr stated simply because wherever he traveled now, he carried the Assassin's Order on his shoulders as leader and represented them in every aspect. His path had not been easy as it was carved in blood and there were times in the dead of night where he almost yearned that everything that occurred since Solomon's Temple never happened but his eyes had been forcefully opened. He handed Vivian's pack to his partner in crime since time was precious when it came to finding the Nile to begin the crossing and a small smirk touched his lips as he told his companion, "Have confidence, Malik."

He laughed to the playful tone in his friend's voice and sarcastically stated with a wagging index finger, "I think that is the perfect ingredient to someone's undoing when it has abounded to the right amount."

The old Altaїr would've scoffed to such a claim with cynicism as he'd believed his viewpoint was best but the recent obstacles had brought new wisdom to the man and he nodded quietly with agreement, "So do I, brother."

* * *

The trio eventually found the Nile river, it was hard _not _to see it with its grand size obscuring the horizon as the riverbank across was barely visible, and they began to work on buying a canoe to cross it from the cheapest salesman they could find. They hoped to eat a quick snack to keep their stomachs light and buy food to cook on the other side of the river since the crossing would be time and energy consuming for them. Vivian had warned the men to be careful in their spending because as the saying went 'you get what you pay for' but Altaїr sent her away to restock their water supply from the vendors while threatening her not to make a scene with her quirky dramatics.

As always, the words fell deaf on her ears and Vivian returned to the bargaining men with a lot more weight than they'd last seen her with. She was no actress but when she'd stuffed a ball full of clothes under her robes and used her leather belt to hold it up in the perfect 'pregnant woman ready to burst' look, both men and the trader stared at the woman who had one hand on her back and the other on her fake belly to emphasize her motherly look.

"Greetings, my dear husband and I need to cross the Nile by tonight" Vivian began cheerfully as she wedged herself between the two assassins, whom were still in shock to her disguise with matching agape mouths. Lying didn't make her feel good but to survive an adventure, it meant a little lying would get you far. She had no survival skills to add into the large pile of what the men already held, except for her knowledge, but since she'd been crafting small little lies since her arrival. . .why not develop them further to help her companions?

The small store that bordered the riverbank brought much needed cool air to her dampened sweaty hair and she tried to ignore the buzzing insects that wanted a taste of it. Like all the stores in this era, cured wood decorated the place and a roof had been added on top to add shade for both the owner and clients as a fishing net hung over the entrance to symbolize it as a store for fishing wares. Patting her belly, she placed a charming smile on her sun parched face and requested sweetly, "We traveled to visit my sister in Damietta but it seems our stay was longer than expected and I need to reach home soon before our little one breaks into the world. Now, I'm sure a man as reputable as yourself wouldn't say no to an expectant mother and with your prices being affordable than most traders we've talked to so far, I _know _we can find a good canoe to finish our trip."

Altaїr had to admit she was pretty convincing as she stood there with an honest smile despite the sweat trickling down her brow. He was almost tempted to let her barter the entire way with her disguise but she was still learning about his world.

A little bat of her lashes took the trader from the cheapest (and poorly made) canoe that laid propped up against a wooden bench to an adequate one located in the center of its wooden companions. A pregnant woman couldn't be refused so callously and she knew using herself as bait would warrant a deal they both needed sealed today for profit's sake, which brought her triumph when the man in green robes declared pleasantly, "Why, of course! If I'd known precious cargo would be onboard, I wouldn't have argued with your husband on the price."

The man wagged a finger at Malik, who stiffened immediately at being pinpointed as her significant other, and Vivian choked back a laugh as her friend placed a fake smile full of friendliness on his olive toned face. The stocky trader smiled that trademark smile she'd come to interpret as 'good for you' as it transcended through time for all men and he playfully chided with humor, "You are one lucky man."

Vivian added a delightful giggle to play the 'coy housewife of the 12th century' role to the max of her abilities but Altaїr butted in to poke her lies in with an invisible flaming hot branding rod. His white robes fluttered in the gentle breeze from the river behind them as he stepped in between the happy couple linking arms and demanded with a sardonic tone, "Why do you automatically assume it's him?"

"The man is dressed in humble clothing and is quite amicable, a stark comparison to one who matches a monk rather than the traveling carpet seller he claims to be" the trader remarked sarcastically to the lie Altaїr had used to keep himself hidden. Vivian knew the assassin had to keep himself covert whenever she played the game by using his 'magic hand touch' skill as she liked to call it (mostly because it gave her sister a bad case of the giggles) to part crowds or having him scaling rooftops like Spiderman but really, the man was absolutely _terrible _at lying in real life. Vivian could only blame it on his direct persona since assassins were meant to be obscured by the shadows but they were in lands that would contain less architecture for him to climb and knew she'd have to teach him more believable job descriptions. His last job had been a water collector and she'd almost slapped her cheek in dismay because his clean white clothes had depicted anything but that.

Vivian patted the bristling assassin's back as she laughed heartily to wipe away what he'd said from the conversation, "Oh, is that what he said? My brother makes up the worst lies to gain attention," with a hushed whisper, she leaned forward to tell the man secretly, "Between you and me, the women of our village prefer a truthful monk rather than a cranky one who spins wild tales but what can I say? He's all I have left after our parents perished in a fire at our corn farm right before harvest season."

"Oh, you poor woman" the man sympathized with a ruminating 'tsk' on his lips while Altaїr rolled his eyes underneath his hood to being minimized in his role as leader.

_My poor stomach_, he thought sarcastically to her fake woes in life as the diplomatic part of him objected that she was getting the job done for them while his pride kept jabbing his mind to take control out of her hands. Ultimately, logic won over since they needed to get their journey underway and if Vivian could do the job without a problem, he would entrust it to her.

She nodded quietly to the kind sentiments, grabbing Malik by the forearm to push him forward with a bright smile plastered on her face, "Go on, dear, buy the boat so we can go home."

Malik listened to her silent order and followed the chatty man, which allowed Vivian to lean closer to Altaїr to add in her next set of orders with a soft whisper, "Make sure he doesn't try to push extra items except for the boat and paddles. Let Malik chat him up but if he tries to sell you a better item that's costlier, insult the canoe until it's near our original price range. You're the deadly viper in our gang of tame water snakes so I trust you won't let me down?"

A smirk touched his lips, emphasizing the scar on the right side and he stated calmly with subdued amusement hidden in his voice, "Vivian, I was bred for this kind of thing."

And buy the canoe, they did. . .at _full _price when Altaїr managed to get himself snagged in a fishing net hanging over the store's ceiling and had fallen into the showcase table displaying fishing rods for purchase. The ensuing argument about it being a safety hazard to prospective clients had embarrassed Vivian more than the reason as to how she landed in the strange dimension. Needless to say, they grabbed their purchase with hasty hands as they restrained Altaїr from uttering more complaints and left the place with the lightning speed of Roadrunner.

The trio began to cross the Nile before the sun was highest in the sky (noon for those had the luxury of a watch unlike poor Vivian) as the three alternated between paddling as a pair but both Malik and Vivian noticed just how fast Altaїr was moving the paddles to get them to shore. Nobody dared to make a joke about his true swimming skills after the murderous glare he gave them when he'd left the store with brown splinters all over his white robes. They didn't want him to tire out his muscles halfway through the trip since it would be many hours but both were hesitant to speak up about his hurry as they watched the paddles loudly splash out of the water and barely caught a steady glimpse before they went back in again under the blue water.

The river had been calm throughout their passage as they entered it during the off-peak season since they were rather close to the end of the Nile as the delta emptied into the Mediterranean and Altaїr informed them he'd picked this precise time of the year to leave in order to avoid drowning. They needed to travel south on the following day to the city of Cairo so they could gather information to see what would await them in Giza where the Piece of Eden had shown brightly in the Apple's map. Altaїr had privately told Vivian that their trip would take approximately two years, at the least (with partial sea travel), and she'd gasped at how long trips were during this time and why nobody did this during her time with the modern convenience of airfare. She'd spoken to him about his thoughts on expanding the Order by creating discreet guilds around the Old World rather than being cooped up in Masyaf and he'd been surprised to her agreement since being one huge target sign that read 'we're here, come get us' would blow them all out of the cliff the castle was built on.

With nobody from the Assassin's Order nearby, they were alone when they entered Egypt and had nobody to rely on but themselves which dampened her nerves because a) she was new in this place, b) there were templars roaming about, c) there were bandits on trade routes to rob wayward civilians, and d) wild animals could jump out at you while you slept; not a very safe environment for poor Vivian, who only carried a stick and sand for protection. She only had Altaїr's word to go on for her safety but would she find the answers she needed during that time? Or would she have to return to Masyaf to live the life of. . .she didn't even have an idea for it.

Being relatively close to the ocean, Vivian had no issues with water travel but remained on guard since Nile crocodiles and aggressive hippos could be lurking underneath and ready to topple them. Since it wasn't her turn to paddle, she kept a wary eye on the water as she played the role of a lifeguard for her companions. Hmm, she had more roles in this life than her real one already. As they reached the last miles of the river, their oldest companion began to groan softly from where he rowed and tried to hide his discomfort by coughing loudly but the other two caught it. Malik stared at him from the back of the canoe as he was the second man paddling (he still had one arm, damn it, and he would use it to the limit) and spoke up with concern as he tried to catch a glimpse of Altaїr's face, "Are you all right?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" the assassin replied gruffly but it a complete lie as nausea struck his entire body like the rolling waves of water underneath them and tried to imagine something else. Closing his eyes to hide the image plaguing his mind, he increased the rowing speed as he hoped to hit land soon before he vomited all the water he'd drank before the trip. The sun decided to be unrelenting this day with its scorching humidity, much to his aggravation, and he grit his teeth tightly to make sure nothing tried to claw its way up his throat.

"Well, you're groaning" Vivian pointed out with her own worry since hospitals were lacking in case it was something serious and he was trying to hide it by calling attention away from it. She wouldn't put it past him due to his reclusive nature or the 'lone wolf' persona as she more commonly called it.

"And swaying," Malik added in helpfully to jab the man since his friend was never one to admit an illness. The man was a stubborn mule ever since adolescence; he remembered a specific day when Altaїr had partaken in archery despite having a high fever and had to be led back to his sleeping quarters when he fell unconscious in the middle of his archer's stance just because he refused to quit.

"I'm perfectly- _no, I'm not!_" Altaїr tried to dissuade but when he turned to glare at them, the movement slammed his head full of sickening dizziness and his stomach rolled over from the awful sensation. Vivian knew it was sea sickness the second his hands flew up to cover his mouth. Dropping the wooden paddles into the boat, Altaїr proceeded to hurl over the right side of the canoe to empty his stomach and onto the clean water of the river. It wasn't a pretty sight in the slightest as the vomit trailed down towards Vivian and Malik over the water as if it were trying to present itself to them.

The other two stared in dismay to the scene that had just unfolded since Vivian would've never thought a man like him could be brought down by a little thing like sea sickness. In the game, he was nothing short but invincible with his high flying techniques, stamina, flexibility, strength, and not to mention, weapon handling. Then, again, maybe there was a reason he avoided water as if it were the black plague and it reinforced the concept that he was a real person just as she was. Malik, however, won the gold for the day's priceless quote when he sighed pitifully, "Those poor fish."

"Poor fish? Poor _me_!" Altaїr snapped sourly to being cast aside as he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and coughed to make sure his throat was clear of any leftover liquid. He abhorred sea travel with a passion and always avoided it due to the horrible feeling it induced within him whenever he was on a boat for longer than ten minutes (he would learn the name of the culprit later on when Vivian explained what caused it). A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he was ready to unleash a barrage of defensive comments about his moment of weakness and their dismissive nature to his health when a spicy item touched his dry lips. His furious brown eyes met the green shade of Vivian's orbs and she didn't blink away from the man's intense glare as it bore down on her like an injured bear nursing its wounds.

"Ginger calms the stomach during sea travel" Vivian explained soothingly with a small smile and pressed the slice of ginger root she held between her fingers against his tight lips. From his side at the back of the canoe, Malik couldn't help but mentally laugh at the scene that reminded him of a mother feeding a fussy infant. Altaїr's eyes narrowed suspiciously since a little root like that could be poisonous but closer inspection told him that it was indeed the herb she claimed it to be. Vivian nudged it against his mouth again with a gentle poke and carefully added in to make sure he wasn't caught unaware, "It won't be tasty but it will help the feeling go away."

He was out of options in the river deathtrap and decided to trust the woman this time, parting his lips to accept the remedy as he used his tongue to draw in the root. Vivian smiled faintly that he'd accepted it rather than rejected her help but a second later, he wanted to spit it out. The taste overwhelmed his sense of nausea and his face wrinkled to the awful taste his taste buds were suffering under as Vivian tried to hide a laugh behind her hand, giving him a hearty pat on the back in sympathy. Malik muffled his own with a snort since they didn't want to enrage Altaїr further and suggested, "Vivian can take over while you lie down and rest. We'll tell you when we're there."

"I can handle a simple job like rowing-" he argued defiantly since he wasn't about to be seen as weak by those he was meant to lead. His fists clenched at the thought since their respect and lives depended upon his strength and if he was felled by a simple body of water, then what kind of leader was he?

"Altaїr, you _don't _have to be the hero all the time" Vivian stated sincerely as she grabbed the paddles away from his reach and took his position as the lead. The older man stared at her quizzically for the words and despite this era of the world saw him as a deadly assassin and the Order's leader while the rest of her realm worshipped him as the white death in the sky, she saw him as a regular human being that was prone to weaknesses. Pointing her chin in Malik's direction as she began to row, she stated wittily with a grin, "That's why we're here, to lend a helping hand and allow you to take the glory for us. Besides, unlike Malik, _I'm_not under your jurisdiction so I can step in when you're way in over your head so relax."

Malik watched the two closely as his friend slumped against the side of the canoe in defeat and hoped this was the breakthrough to get the two on amicable terms. It was best it happened now than see and hear them argue throughout the entire journey because then, he might have to join a trade caravan and walk back to Masyaf to find glorious peace. He leaned forward expectantly as Altaїr glanced at the woman with his piercing stare and Malik strained his hearing until he heard the sarcastic but nonpoisonous words, "You're not going to sing about this, are you? If so, I will barf and it _won't_be in the river."

So much for a truce.

* * *

By the time they reached shore, Altaїr was half asleep as he laid down on the uncomfortable firm floorboards of the canoe on his back while Vivian's arms were on fire and sorely aching as her first time canoeing was anything but joyful. She vowed herself to condition her body as she traveled because stamina would be very important for survival in the Crusade era and threw the whole rule about calorie counting out the window because there was no resting her body until nighttime. The view of the muddy shoreline as gnarled twigs poked up from between the dirt was a welcome sight for all of them as it signaled arrival and Malik sighed toward the blue sky with relief, "We're here."

_Sturdy land, I could kiss you. . .but I won't_, Altaїr thought gratefully as the slippery mud flooded him with much needed relief and sat up slowly to reacquaint himself with gravity. Inhaling deeply to take away the sense of nausea, the smell of fresh water and wet dirt that were usually found on a stray dog brought him tranquility as the journey completed for the day. Tomorrow would bring another river trip but he'd prepare for it. . .by stealing Vivian's ginger roots.

"I'll get out first to pull the boat in and you guys can follow" Vivian stated helpfully to be proactive as a companion and Altaїr frowned since he was the one giving orders (on land) but she placed a booted foot onto the bow of the canoe before he could correct her. Pushing her weight onto that right foot, she jumped off the boat with a strong kick and was proud of herself for not plummeting like a rock in water within one foot of her jump. Her pride soon turned to disappointment as she saw that she'd over calculated and cried out in midair when she realized she wasn't going to be hitting the water as a safety net. Instead, a gleeful smirk spread over Altaїr's lips when he heard the wet plop of mud striking flesh and he leaned over the side with a mischievous glint in his eyes to see Vivian covered in the riverbank's mud.

"Ack! Gross!"

She wiped the mud smeared all over her face while trying not to think what had trampled over it or what was in it as she heard the quietest sniggers from their Grandmaster companion. She shook her arms and legs to get rid of excess mud but knew she needed a really good bath to be truly clean and would have to bathe in the river eventually since she was covered head to toe in the gunk. Well, who else could say they took a nude swim in the Nile back home? Knowing her current problem couldn't be helped further, she moved towards the canoe to pull its weight onto the shore until it was firmly locked in the mud without budging. If they lost this boat, they were screwed for life since money and trading materials were scarce. Malik grabbed their travel packs in his hand and held them out for her to grab as she placed each on a dry patch of dirt since their clothes washing had been done a day prior. Holding out her hand, she motioned for him to take it and she helped him out the boat with little trouble as his honed flexibility helped his balance. Malik winced as his brown leather boots sunk into the wet fresh mud as it rose to his ankles and began the trek uphill to find decent campground.

Looking into the boat, she wiggled her fingers humorously to help the queasy assassin onto his feet but he stood up on shaky legs (which he tried to valiantly hide from her gaze) and stated sharply to protect his last shreds of pride, "I don't need help from a woman."

The sexist remark was one thing but after lending aid selflessly and having it chucked back at her face like a dirty rag, she was reaching the end of her rope and grit her teeth tightly to the point that her molars hurt. When was the jerk ever going to give her an olive branch of peace? Taking a page from Ezio's notebook of classic revenge, she narrowed her green eyes for comeuppance that had been denied since leaving Masyaf.

Vivian grabbed hold of the canoe on both sides at the bow and used all of her strength to tip it over, managing to crumble the assassin's weak stability and Altaїr's legs gave out from underneath him as he fell out of the boat. The splash in the water was pleasure to her muddy ears as she watched him flail his limbs in perfect imitation to his digital double in the game but this time, he resurfaced as he spit out water to unleash a yell laced with fury, "Who the hell do you think you are, you harpy? I ought to- _ow!_"

She watched in amusement as he ran out of the water at top speed, his right hand reaching back to pull at the perpetrator and she burst into laughter when she saw what it was: a water snake. Altaїr was extremely lucky it wasn't a poisonous snake but he'd rather do without this one as well. The slithery greenish-brown reptile had decided to bite him right on his buttocks, the right one in particular, and she watched him rip it off and fling it back into the water with an angry growl. Frankly, she was surprised his teeth didn't transform into fangs and pitied the poor reptile that had merely defended himself against Altaїr's invading butt.

"Let's set up camp, shall we?" Malik spoke up calmly with a higher pitch in voice to settle the escalating tension as he lugged their items to a dry portion north of the shore. The other two followed quietly and helped their friend with their packs since their long trip called for a decent amount of belongings. Vivian mentally cursed Ubisoft for never showing Altaїr carrying his travel pack whenever he went horse riding to Damascus, Jerusalem, or Acre because her respect would've soared while her enthusiasm would've dropped at seeing what she had to bring with her. She also blamed Bioware's Dragon Age and Bestheda's Fallout for securing that lie in the RPG realm.

After setting up camp in the similar fashion for more than a week, the trio had perfected any mistakes and kept besting their time at each new site. Altaїr took care of setting up the tents while Malik and Vivian were in charge of a cozy fire and cooking. If they were in modern times, Vivian could've popped in BTO's song 'Taking Care of Business' in her mp3 player and they could've danced away the remainder of the time left over since they brought their A game to the campsite.

By the time they did finish, the sun was beginning to set over the blue-orange horizon as Vivian finished cutting fresh vegetables she'd bought on route to the river. Never in her life did she think she'd be seeing the sun set over the Egyptian river as its calm waters brought tranquility to the end of their day and assured them they were on the right path to their location. If she ever returned home, she would send a query to Ubisoft about having this in their next game in case they explored the Altaїr storyline again. However, she doubted it since the masses seemed more akin to Ezio, the handsome stallion of a man, rather than Altaїr, the broody man with discipline.

"I have a question" Vivian spoke up curiously as she stirred handmade chicken soup broth in a brown copper pot over their makeshift fire.

"This should be good" Altaїr mumbled dryly as he opened a loaf of bread from its paper packaging to accompany their stew and received the remnants of a carrot to his face. He would've threatened her with his hidden blade but her expression was serious so he let it slide for now since she didn't show disrespect when he was the same. He didn't like her but that didn't mean he wouldn't show respect since her growing craftiness was beginning to benefit their excursion.

She threw in the cut pieces of vegetables into the pot to let them soften and began, "You expect to travel to many lands on this trip but how will we communicate with others who can't speak our language? Well, _your _language because I've no idea how I can speak it even now. Arabic will last us until the middle of the African continent since the south is barely entering trade with Bantu tribes and if you want to head elsewhere towards Asia or Europe in the future, you will be lost once you hit China or Italy."

So far, the plan was for her to travel with them until they reached Morocco where she would head to Spain via the Canary Islands since it was the closest of a homeland to her seeing as America wasn't even discovered by the East. Even by Ezio's time, the ships were barely being prepared for the dangerous voyage and she doubted she had more than 60 years in her life left- given that a coyote didn't maul her to death by then. Vivian wasn't certain of her concocted half-ass plan but if she found answers on their travels, she wouldn't execute it. Altaїr, however, wanted to find the pieces of Eden and store them somewhere safe under the Order's watch where no Templar could reach them. She hoped he had a fortified place like Superman's Fortress of Solitude because the Templars wouldn't hesitate to scorch a building to the ground or blow it up to find their target.

Malik decided to answer her query and he explained, "Business and information is done in trading bazaars where people from all lands gather. Sometimes, we can find a trustworthy translator to aid us in a search. Our Order has yet to travel this far but certain skilled assassins always leave notes for our brethren to follow as future reference," his lips thinned into a small frown as he added in, "Unfortunately, we are the first to venture here and will remain so the rest of the way. Also, we will be traveling the path of the Silk Road so it is bound to come in handy for us. My chameleon and information gathering skills will take care of all that while Altaїr will explore from the rooftops and you. . ."

His face creased with embarrassment at not having an answer for her job description and Vivian joked lightly, "I know, try not to get killed or jailed for indecency."

"You will shine with your insight about the Old and New World" he assured her with a friendly smile since their trip over the Nile had gained him new knowledge about the river as she rambled on about what she knew. Altaїr had grumbled 'make her stop' but the dai had kindly listened with intrigue and he stated honestly to keep her spirit lifted, "Besides, you seem to have a knack for lying."

"Do I?" she chuckled nervously since she never expected to be good at it in any way nor that it was a good quality to have. Giving their dinner a stir with a wooden spoon, she tilted her head to the side as she considered that new aspect in her life, "To be honest, I've never lied so much like I have here. I was always cautious because I worried about being discovered and dear me, what would people think of it? But know that I'm in a land where nobody knows me. . .it is quite liberating."

"I think we will all be learning something on this journey, for good or ill" Altaїr stated simply from his spot as he bit into a piece of the sliced bread with a small lift of his brow and they had to reluctantly agree to his solemn comment.

* * *

After a decent dinner that filled their empty stomachs, the fire roared brightly against the dark riverbank but Vivian had warned to keep an eye on the reeds and riverbed during watch since crocodiles could wash up to find refuge during the night. She'd taken the first watch as she wanted to savor her first stay in Egypt since the trek across the peninsula had been tiresome, given her foot blisters, and allowed no time for sightseeing. Glittering diamonds filled the dark veil of night as the current of the river flowed steadily towards the south. The chirps of frogs and other wildlife offered her companionship for the three hour watch and she tried to hide her laughter when Malik's moose-like snore struck the quiet atmosphere to tell her he was in deep slumber. As a woman who'd grown up inside a female household under her father's parenting, she found the two men holding uncanny similarities to her family as the distrust over her foreign arrival had faded away.

Malik was helpful and understanding to guiding her new life in similarity to her father but unlike him, the dai didn't treat her like precious glass. She missed her father's protectiveness since being the oldest, she took it upon herself to care over her siblings in a role that should've been her mother's. And her mother. . .Vivian missed her like any child who'd unexpectedly lost a parent, such wounds would never heal and a part of her believed the same for her father since he never remarried. She clashed heavily with Altaїr since he partly reminded her of Natalya with his indomitable attitude and a small smirk formed on her lips at the idea of having her sister in her place; she and Altaїr would have destroyed themselves in seconds. One, because they tended to use physical violence and words to defend themselves and two, well, Natalya was an Ezio lover and nobody could best him in her eyes. Unlike her sister, however, Altaїr accepted none of her aid when she tried to reach out to him.

_Maybe I should've ended there, at least an appreciative smack on the butt would've satiated Ezio while Altaїr turns into a man eating tiger just for talking_, she thought dryly to the stark differences between both men but what could she do?

_And how am I going to get home? I'm learning nothing except for lying, cheating, and. . .well, I haven't stolen yet but with Altaїr, it's inevitable!_, she thought frantically to the things she'd done so far since arriving and sighed aloud to what her life had become. AC fans would probably be rejoicing or having multiple heart attacks but danger was a true problem in the 1190s and she had to keep her senses on their toes. _I have nothing to start from to get home so unless I'm in a comic like Marvel that lets me time or realm travel, I'm screwed. Not to mention the lack of decent medicine and a shorter lifespan will kill me eventually in this place._

"Oh god, I could end up being a sheep herder for life" she grieved to the limited lives women led in these times (where was Maria when she needed a pep talk on how to kick somebody's ass and break free of gender roles?) and groaned miserably to her fate. Poking the fire with a wooden twig to keep it lit, she mumbled pathetically under her breath, "Damn you, Ubisoft, and your Assassin creations! You could've at least given me Mary Sue powers to become an assassin like in fanfiction. . .although Altaїr would've skewered me on his sword like shishkebab for such heinous manipulation. I'm as useless as Dogmeat in Fallout 3!"

The innocent chirps of frogs brought her back to reality, slumping her tightened shoulders and she grumbled miserably at the dirt, "And now I'm talking to myself. Way to avoid a mental breakdown, Viv."

"When _don't _you talk to yourself?"

The new voice frightened her and she exclaimed hysterically, "Jumping Ezio on a rooftop, don't spear me!"

Altaїr stared at the alarmed woman with a deadpan stare as she crossed her arms in front of her body as a shield- as if that would help- and he withheld from smacking her arms down to show her obvious weak strength. Instead, he shifted the weight on his feet as he stood upright as the imposing Grandmaster he was, jabbing his index finger at her to scold sharply, "Nobody is killing you."

Her green eyes blinked with surprise that she hadn't been nabbed by strangers in the dead of night and glanced at the master assassin from his booted feet, brown linen sleeping pants that thankfully didn't have weapons attached, half-open white tunic that would've had the inner fan girl in her drooling like Homer Simpson at doughnuts over his exposed bronze chest revealing itself to her, to his sharp face which lacked the daytime hood. The glow of the fire defined his features further from the stubble on his squared jaw, his perfectly chiseled nose that made hers inferior with its rhinoplasty quality, light brown eyes that hardened with the coldness of ice despite the fire's warmth giving the illusion of sweet honey, and short black hair that had been flattened by the constant use of a hood. Her voice struggled on leaving her voice box since one dangerous assassin over bandits wasn't exactly the idea of safety but she managed to squeak, "I thought you were a bandit."

"Bandits are louder in their steps so hopefully, your time among us will allow your hearing to improve" he replied simply with the tip as he sat down in front of the fire without another word, opening his codex book to begin writing since his shift was after hers. The silent night gave him time to meditate on his ponderings and he'd be lying if he said Vivian's insights weren't spot on to what he'd seen in the Apple or guided his recent entries.

"The Egyptians are probably the most exotic of cultures the world has known, their buildings remain a mystery even in my time and no culture has ever created a Book of the Dead as they have" she spoke up quietly as the images of pharaohs, mummies, anthromorphic gods, and oddly enough, kohl eyeliner, danced in her mind. History and archaeology students dreamed of traveling to one of the greatest extinct civilizations of Earth and she counted herself lucky for being in such a place during the Third Crusade occurring to the east. Glancing at her companion, who was hunched over his book as he wrote, she piped up with a hopeful smile, "Can we visit a pyramid-"

"No," was his blunt response as he scribbled into his book with a sharp wooden pencil coated in black soot from the fire (how he missed using ink but it was messy in the outdoors and he needed an efficient alternative). His brow furrowed with concentration while using the decent light of the fire but still felt the need to squint from time to time. There was so much he wanted to write into his Codex but to use the entire book to chronicle his life seemed too little of an amount in pages but Vivian had told him he'd only use one after future assassins discover random pages. Part of him had begun to wonder if he should break his Codex into volumes to include more information but at the same time, the Templar threat would always loom over his shoulder and could use it against the Assassin's Order. There was always a risk with opportunity.

_Attis. Dionysus. Horus. Krishna. Mithra. __Jesus. Sim__ilar stories color their lives. Too similar, I think. Divine birthright. Persecution. Disciples. Miraculous acts. Resurrection...  
How is it possible?  
_

_Perhaps it isn't... Merely a single story told over the ages? Borrowed then changed to fit the times? Evolving as our tools and language do? Is this tale born of fact or fiction? A bit of both? Could these figures be the same person – their life extended and transformed by a Piece of Eden?_

"You know, that's a very good question" Vivian's voice popped up from behind his right shoulder and he shut his book immediately as he snarled in her direction for the intrusion. The fire radiated the fury glowing in his brown eyes for the invasion of privacy, not to mention personal space, while Vivian merely smiled like the Cheshire cat as her own green orbs matched Burton's creation perfectly in hue.

"Have you no sense of privacy? And shouldn't you be asleep?" he hissed dangerously to her carefree smile, especially at that hour, and achieved in wiping it off her face with his harsh words.

Her brow furrowed as she narrowed her eyes since everything he'd written down, she'd already read off the game and the ever handy Assassin's Creed wiki. She pulled away and increased the distance between them as she sat in her spot, crossing her arms to defensively snap back, "You brought me along to help and that's what I'm trying to do, you ass."

"You make me question that decision every day" he sneered under his breath since her bold ways poked at him with sharp imaginary swords since arriving and didn't know how to resolve that problem. Vivian, of course, was oblivious to what the hell was going on with his attitude (or what stick went up the stick already in his butt) and scoffed in his direction, standing up to leave for her tent.

_Arrogant idiot, I hope the apple sucks him into an alternate dimension_, she thought scathingly to his atrocious attitude. . .but he did have a point on the eavesdropping thing. It's not that she wanted to intrude for mocking purposes, she only went in goodwill, but that didn't give him the reason to build up ammunition and fire it with his mouth before letting the other person talk. _Whatever, it's not like he's writing an erotic novel in there!_

"Erkjay!" she cursed aloud in pig Latin, knowing he wouldn't understand a single word of it as she disappeared into her tent for much needed sleep.

In the end, Altaїr received his much needed silence to finish writing and the peace surrounding their camp allowed him to relax under the stars (and gain a few mosquito bites). He decided to sleep next to the warm fire since Malik would come out for his shift eventually and with them being far from any village, doubted any human life wandered the area at those hours. Also, the ground was the softest he'd been on since all of his travels and decided to sleep like a newborn baby as he laid down on his stomach with his limbs sprawled all over the place. It wasn't the classic look of a Grandmaster but who was going to see him like this at the Nile?

When Malik did surface from his tent to take up his spot as the last watchman, before the sun began to clear the night sky, he was anything but relaxed to the sight awaiting him. Altaїr was lying down next to another form as he'd managed to roll away from the fire during his sleep and carelessly mumbled under his breath, "No. . . .no, Maria. . .I don't cuddle. . .must leave now. . .finding quickest exit."

Quietly, Malik frantically shook Vivian's tent to wake her up and the tired woman roused from her dreams of gloriously taking down an Archdemon as a Grey Warden in Bioware's RPG game. Uttering a pitiful whine for being robbed of it, she pulled apart her mosquito netting and crawled through the intricate veil to keep the insects out. She pulled apart the cloth of her tent's entrance and poked her head out from between the flaps as a curtain of black hair covered most of her face. Her green eyes widened as she fought down a frightened squeak and immediately leaned down to grab her most important belongings, which were thankfully still wrapped inside her pack. They had to get the hell out of there quickly!

Altaїr came to feel smothered in his sleep (not just from his mumbled dreams) and woke up abruptly because he was certain he wasn't running over rooftops to escape his issues with intimacy. His brown eyes opened to meet the green side of a Nile crocodile as it rested on the bank next to him, the left side of his limbs entangled over Altaїr's clothing as it lay on its fat stomach. Fear rarely struck him, only briefly when Al Mualim betrayed him after trusting the man for more than two decades and the second was that very second as he stared at the dangerous scaly green hide of the apex predator.

_"Shi-i-i-i-i-i-i-t!," _was the survival instinct screaming through and out of his lungs as he tried to break away but the creature had managed to snag a hand onto his shirt to keep him in place for a few seconds longer. This was all that it needed to react when it felt the man move and animal instinct took over as it defended itself by snapping its jaws toward Altaїr's face but the man managed to dodge out of harm's way by mere inches. Any less would've cost him an ear and part of his skull.

The growling of the beast unnerved him since animals had never been targets and he wasn't entirely sure that killing the animal to save himself was best. He was a killer, yes, but of vile human beings that deserved their just desserts- not animals that were simply defending themselves. He wasn't evil, he was fair. . .nonetheless, it didn't stop him from calling aloud for aid, "Malik! Vivian!"

Of course, as he wrestled with the heavy animal on the riverbank, he caught sight of both individuals leaving the camp in a hasty escape out of his peripheral vision. His eyes widened momentarily to the witnessed sight and Altaїr felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach to the possibility of having to fight the creature on his own.

_**Did they just leave me?**_, he thought frantically as he punched the reptile in the vulnerable underside of its neck in the hopes that its dangerous mouth would widen the distance between them.

He was about to curse his team all the way into the Egyptian afterlife for being abandoned at the hands of a _crocodile _of all creatures but a shout caught the animal's attention as it overlapped Altaїr's grunts. A second later, a broken branch crashed against the top of the animal's head and the reptile lashed out to tear into it with its jaws. Another pair of arms grabbed Altaїr by the shoulders to pull him away from the ferocious creature as Vivian yelled strongly to get him on his feet, "Get up! Kiss your croc girlfriend goodbye, we have to go!"

He didn't need to be told twice and his feet picked up dirt as Vivian helped him stand upright with her own strength, grunting as her muscles screamed for relief but he needed her. She yanked him by the side of his sleeping shirt when the strong tail lashed out at his feet and he dodged immediately out of reflex, bolting from the site with both his companions to leave the Nile crocodile to its wooden catch. Altaїr's heart beat loudly in his chest, despite the constant training and exposure to danger, as he fled the riverbank to a small hill the other two were running towards and hoped the thing wouldn't chase after them to finish what they started. When they were safely perched on top of the bank's incline, Altaїr hunched over to pant lightly as relief flooded him and he admitted breathlessly from the unscheduled stress, "I thought. . .that you left. . ."

"We needed a plan without alerting the animal and making things worse- a branch to the face works wonders" his friend stated with a smug grin to their success since he'd never have believed to take on a crocodile _and _save his friend. His confidence had indeed waned after losing his arm after the fiasco at Solomon's Temple but it was slowly rebuilding day-by-day as he journeyed with the two. His swordsmanship had been steadily increasing and his constant training alongside Altaїr for the last months nicked any mistakes in his agility and flexibility. He'd never be able to use a crossbow but a sword and dagger worked just as efficiently at killing an enemy. Rolling his shoulders to shake away the adrenaline rush, his lips puckered out in thought before they twisted into a witty smirk and he said casually, "I'm rather proud of myself."

"And although you annoy me like lice on a scalp, I'm not about to leave a man behind" Vivian finished with a haughty smirk that matched Malik's and pulled at a hole in Altaїr's sleeping shirt that the animal managed to rip into. Her tongue clicked in playful disapproval but knew the animal could've ripped him into shreds if given another minute and gently said, "We'll patch that up tomorrow. For now, let's find a new place to sleep."

He followed behind them with tired feet as he wiped away dirt from his back, sighing mentally for having to sleep in dirty clothes for whatever hours he had left before morning arrived. Regardless, he didn't hesitate to gratefully admit to both of them, "Thank you for helping me."

Malik simply nodded since brothers in arms wouldn't abandon each other during danger while Vivian merely grinned brightly, causing Altaїr to automatically frown to what he knew was either a sarcastic comment or a song about nothing. Despite it was the middle of the night and lethargy should've bitten her by now, she took the lead to find their new camping spot with a giddy step in her walk and declared zestfully, "We're explorers now and adventures are always _legend_- wait for it. . .," spreading her arms wide, she grinned, "_dary_!"

Altaїr managed a weak smile in his sleep deprived state and held no irritancy in his voice as he muttered flatly, "You're crazy, Vivian."

"So I've been told" she agreed humorously with a quick nod and the three companions treaded on to find a new campground that wasn't alluring to crocodiles.

* * *

**A/N**: A long chapter that I hope is worth the time that elapsed from the last one as we start the journey down Egypt which will trail all around the continent until they hit the Canary Islands. I'm sure Altaїr will either be driven insane by then or join Vivian's catchy tunes despite her voice will lure a wolf to howl along with her. The next chapter takes them to Cairo and Giza as they head to look for the piece of Eden, the trio has another river adventure, Vivian sings about gypsies to Templars, and Altaїr gets into a tangle with another Nile river inhabitant.

Thanks for the story alerts and for the last chapter reviews, my dear readers, I truly appreciate it!

_Flyingcrispi_: Thanks for thinking it's brilliant, I try my best!

_Shinigami-Of-Love_: Thanks for loving it.

_IpiRayan_: At this point, Vivian wishes she would've fallen into Ezio's bathtub rather than Altaїr's life. The team will hit Cairo and Giza before heading south to the present country of Uganda.

_TheAnonReviewer_: I'm glad you like it. Altaїr's nerves are just grinded easily by Vivian but two years of travel can change a person for good or worse.

_Sort of proud_: With Vivian loving the gaming world, she'll be bound to reference a lot of stuff to it. We already saw a bunch of games in this one along with Marvel comic books. Plus, Bioware does have that Order of Templars in Dragon Age.

_Em_: Malik's pretty mellow with a dash of sarcasm as he follows Altaїr while the latter needs a bit of tweaking in the anger department since he has to behave like a leader now (and we know Vivian will poke him with a toothpick to rile him).

_NaruVamp_: I hope the crocodile scene was great for you, I found it hilarious that he thought the others abandoned him. He'll be getting into a scuffle with another animal just before entering Cairo and since people will inhabit the area, you know they're going to find it intriguing.

_DeathtoBella_: Ha, anything Altaїr does can turn on a woman or repel them away indefinitely.

_Cavea aurata_: There is a romance scheduled between Altaїr and Vivian but it's not going to be similar to other stories that have them professing love within ten chapters. Far from it considering Altaїr's outlook in the romance department but two years is worth a lot of emotional development for the characters. There is a reason for Vivian being there that relates to the Piece of Eden so it's not that she's suddenly transported into a gaming world for absolutely no reason (not that being bonked on the head wasn't funny enough). And I totally thank Adventure Time for the idea because their adventures make me laugh, especially the suicidal balloons: 'Yay! To the Mesosphere. Finally, we can die!'

_Kookie-douwh_: Thank you for finding the fic humorous beyond meaning, I take a bow for it. There will be romance in it but it won't be the main focus, I want the story to be full of humor more than anything because an adventure's meant to be fun- not a romp around every country that would put Ezio's count to shame.

_FrostyAngel84_: Thanks, I bounce in my seat too when I'm writing it. There's so much that comes out of my brain and I either put it into the chapter or write it in my notes for future reference. Example: Vivian telling the Templars, 'If you strike me down, I will become more powerful than you can imagine.' 'Kill her.' 'Damn.'


	8. The Paddling Of The Swollen Ass

**For the reader's enjoyment: **The actors/actresses portraying as example models for my cast are on my profile page and can I say yum to the man, Francisco Randez, who did play Altaїr as a body model. You can click on the images showing them each and I hope I did each justice because I did my best by matching hair, eyes, skin, and facial structure (Maria took me forever to match). Also, Vivian's drooling in this chapter will be more obvious to those who see the actor model I've used for Ilias. _And _I added a soundtrack listing for the story (it's under my Avatar section for faster finding) so you guys can read about what places they'll be visiting and how Ubisoft's mythology theme will be incorporated into it.

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**The Paddling of The Swollen Ass  
**

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Vivian lethargically wandered the campground, located on the flat center of the hill they'd climbed to escape the crocodile during the night, and sported the classic sleep deprived zombie look on her beige face as she yawned loudly like a lazy lion. Hmm, she briefly wondered if they would encounter the king of the jungle when heading down to South Africa. She didn't have the energy to swat away buzzing insects that wandered too close for comfort as she gathered dry twigs scattered around the area to rebuild the dead fire that Malik had created during his shift. At the current moment, the dai was taking a quick nap to take the stress away from his shift so she and Altaїr would take care of the cooking before preparing to journey south on the Nile. The trip would be tediously long and they would travel on water from morning till sunset to make sure they didn't waste time.

The soup from last night had been eaten entirely so no leftovers could be swallowed quickly for a half decent breakfast by the weary traveling trio. They were saving their dried meat for further on in the trip since parts of southern Africa had yet to be on the Silk Road or Trans-Saharan trade routes. Vivian was slowly becoming accustomed to the meals on the road as she continuously ate hot soup with either too little salt, too much salt (Malik's finger slipped on that one), too thin a broth; hunted game that made Vivian shudder since it could've been carrying diseases; stale bread that hurt her teeth and found understanding with Altaїr when his own hidden blade didn't perforate the hard bread. She'd informed him that Ubisoft lacked to show the game of survival with the assassins they used since traveling distances was not easy but then again, the player took the master control from Desmond's hands and bypass all of that.

_Send all those dumb reality show stars into the wild like this and let them learn something about life rather than their useless dramatics that clutter air on TV_, she thought evilly to what television was becoming as every day more channels turned to it. _Or maybe I was spared by being blasted here._

Across from her, the master assassin washed his face in a wooden bowl filled with river water to clear away the last remnants of sleep as the cold water made contact with the early morning air and goosebumps broke out over his skin in reaction. That was the kick he needed to liven up to begin a new day and dried his wet face free of clear droplets with a black cloth. He was already dressed in his assassin robes but had yet to sheath his sword to his belt or attach the hidden blade gauntlet to his forearm as he kneeled on the ground to wash up. Vivian simply slept with the robes she'd use on the next day to cut down on the time used to wrap on all those layers and it helped with the freezing desert nights since her tent couldn't keep out all of the cold. The elements were another enemy in an era without modern medicine and she had to be extremely careful not to become sick as she traveled. Mosquitoes were a force to be reckoned with near the water and she could only shudder at the illnesses like malaria, dengue fever, and the West Nile virus that they carried.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked softly as she kept her voice neutrally calm in case he was on one of his cranky days and decided to unexpectedly explode on her.

Altaїr definitely had his better days at Masyaf where he had the luxury of a warm bed but he was working on his cool manner of speaking since Vivian kept proving herself by answering his questions (he'd yet to see her in a fight but she had spirit, he had to give her that). That didn't automatically warrant her his trust, however. There were many responsibilities on his shoulders now as a Grand Master, the leader of the expedition, and a wielder of a weapon that no human was ready to have the possession of. It weighed a lot on his mind and part of him wanted his companions to understand, maybe help with his many ruminations, but he didn't want to be seen as anything but in control at the same time.

He gave a small nod, glancing in her direction to meet her sleepy gaze as she broke the twigs in half for better kindling, and admitted casually, "Yes, I never thought I'd wrestle a crocodile in my life but I can cross it off my list for deadliest encounters."

A grin spread over her oval face as his small joke lightened the sluggish mood of the cold morning and she suggested playfully, "Maybe you should write it in the Codex and list it as 'strangest encounters and how to avoid/win them' for future readers."

"I. . .I've actually thought about writing a separate book about our adventures" he pondered aloud as he threw the used water onto the dirt, sending wet splotches of dirt to pool around his booted feet, and walked over to where she was huddling her bundle of twigs. She'd yet to make a decent fire (despite Malik's continuous lessons) and didn't complain when he grabbed two sturdy sticks from her hand along with a flat piece of wood that had washed ashore to begin building a fire. She hadn't joked when she told him her survival rates were those of a child without the knowledge of his time and Altaїr found himself being her parent most of the time as he scolded and taught her.

She sat on the ground to watch as she draped the cowl of her brown robes closer to her neck for warmth and let him work at starting a fire. For a man missing his left ring finger, he had no problem with dexterity or strength as she watched him use that hand to create the perfect amount of friction while his right kept the vertical stick steady. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on creating a fire but he managed to speak his thoughts to the quiet woman alongside him, "I've yet to hear about these lands despite the drawn maps by cartographers but I am confident that our accounts can help our assassins scope out the land. If anything, I think it might increase our strength as an order when I disperse the assassins into smaller discreet sectors across the world. I need to keep my brothers safe from our enemies and I believe this will work to our advantage, whether we start with Europe, Asia, or Africa."

Tilting his head to the side as he took his eyes away from his furious twig scrubbing, he gazed at Vivian with an honest expression that lightened his sharp features and asked hesitantly, "Is that what I am supposed to do in the future? There is much the Apple has shown me. . .it is overwhelming at times."

She bit back the smartass remark of asking whether he'd seen an apocalypse or two in there since Those Who Came Before had already shown the ability of foreseeing through time itself, possibly even shifting realities at the tips of their fingers.

"I can't tell you the future nor can I approve what you do for fear that I could ruin it but. . .I never heard of a second book, just that you sent the assassins into the shadows to protect them and increase their stabbing success" she informed lightly with a chuckle at the end to lighten the mood and encourage his spirit to keep fighting for what was right. His gaze flickered away from hers, becoming obscured by his white hood as he returned to his task, and she sighed mentally for having the answers he sought but unable to bestow them. The last thing she needed was for time itself to collapse under her for any slip of the tongue and for him to curse her for ruining the entire universe.

Regardless, she still wanted to provide him with something enlightening and suggested nonchalantly, "However, if you want to chronicle our trip, that might be nice. A written landscape of the lands can guide future generations and omitting information about the Pieces of Eden will keep any nosy Templars from butting in."

She grabbed Malik's pack to search for the falafel they saved to eat during mornings only, avoiding any personal belongings and underwear that would have her screaming in horror. However, with the dai being very organized (unlike Altaїr who stuffed everything inside without a care that it would wrinkle), she found the carefully wrapped packets of brown paper at the top of the pile and held them up in the air with success. Her expression wasn't ecstatic since they had nothing else to eat with the bread and she sighed listlessly to her companion, "I guess our meal is this. Yippee."

"I will hunt something" he stated simply since he needed meat to fill his stomach after the rough night he'd endured and leaned down to breathe gently against the lightly bristling smoke forming between the two pieces of wood. Vivian always worried he'd accidentally set his hood ablaze when he created fire but he'd yet to do so which had her logic nagging he'd be fine. With a tilt of the head to the right, he informed her easily with his quickly conceived plan, "There's a river full of fish right there-"

"No, a crocodile or a hippo can sneak up on you before you know it" she objected instantly with a shrill voice and a fervent shake of her head to that ridiculous idea. Did he not listen to her warnings about the river or did he intentionally want to charge head on into the mouth of danger without a care? Placing the packet of falafel on a nearby log that served as a bench for Malik earlier in the night, she made her disagreement quite clear as she argued firmly with a stern gaze, "I'm not about to pull out your mangled carcass to tell Malik you died at the paws of _another _man-eating crocodile. There's a lot of birds flying about already and small grazers come here to drink. . .probably."

Her lips thinned in a pout to the lack of decent game that wouldn't rip them into shreds and she mumbled under her breath, "We should've bought a fishing rod from the merchant since we're using the Nile to travel south and our canoe would've kept us safe while we fished."

"Who says we need to buy one?" he smirked mischievously with a scoff at having to throw his money away for something he could craft himself and she furrowed her brow to what he implied. Assassins were survivalists by nature due to their solitary lives outside of Masyaf and he remembered how he'd laughed aloud when she'd told him her people relied heavily on technology and money for survival. Even preparing food could be done by a machine rather than one's bare hands; it sounded so alien to him but he believed it on the first day when Vivian couldn't make a fire to boil water, he knew then and there that she'd never survive in his time.

He blew again on the tendrils of smoke leaving the flat piece of wood and knowingly explained, "The reeds at the bank are sturdy enough for a fishing rod, a piece of leather can be tied at the end for gripping, your sewing thread or my hunting twine can serve as the line, my blade can puncture a hole to tie it all together, and a hook. . ."

He paused in midword since they didn't have anything that they could shape into a hook at the current moment but she perked up when a thought popped into her head. Looking for her pack around the clearing, her hands fidgeted through the air as she suggested brightly, "I have an extra sewing needle-"

"We need them and you can patch up the whole in my robe after I. . .," he interjected as a new idea formed in his mind and he stopped making the fire they sorely needed to cook with. Vivian was torn between continuing it herself and possibly ruining it or letting it burn out but Altaїr paid her no mind as his fingers meticulously traced the lines of his robes to find a certain type of clasp. Vivian almost jumped when she saw him separate the last two layers of white fabric from his waist, his fingers fiddling with the interior of the layers to pull out a metal hook that pinned the two pieces together (which relieved her immediately since a peep show during a cold morning was not what she wanted. . .well, maybe the AC fangirl hidden inside her because he was still Altaїr, damn it!).

She was almost tempted to joke about nudity but that might drive him to forget the whole thing entirely and her starving stomach won over her sharp tongue today as she held back on her snarky self. Altaїr unclasped the newly torn hook by its binding tie as one would a safety pin and twisted the hook carefully between his fingertips until it formed into a perfect fishing equivalent. He smirked proudly as he held up his handmade creation, which took less than five minutes, and declared haughtily to his ingenuity, "A cheap but efficient alternative and the clasp will serve to hold the line around it."

Vivian clapped her hands excitedly at the possibility of eating fresh fish, her mouth watering at the delicious thought, and happily squealed, "Oh my. . .Perfect! Do we make the fire or go? I mean, I can't make it myself but I can try," she giggled gleefully with renewed energy like the Energizer bunny and rambled on nervously with an embarrassed smile, "Look at me, I'm rambling over _fishing_! Oh, but what if you get seasick? And Malik-"

"Malik!" he bellowed across the way and she flinched in her spot with embarrassed dismay since his voice probably woke all of the animals sleeping on the shore. So much for that patience he gained during his journey back to Master rank. Vivian could only bury her head in her hands to his lack of subtlety despite he was the number one enforcer of it during their trip.

A groggy snore from within their friend's tent, followed by a groaning cough, told Vivian that the dai was now awake to begin the day. Superior assassin hearing or not, Altaїr's voice could've woken the dead and Malik soon offered a sluggish 'what?' as he laid inside his tent. The dai was comfortably wrapped in his warm blankets as he decided whether or not to become alert to possible danger or stay lethargic for a few more minutes.

"Take care of camp, Vivian and I are heading out to the river" Altaїr called back to let him know of their whereabouts so he wasn't caught unaware by their leave or believe sudden intruders had taken them away. Altaїr was confident in his comrade's fighting skills but an overwhelming number could bring down a seasoned warrior if one wasn't careful.

"We're going hunting," Vivian had never seen a man so excited over finding fish as she stared at him awkwardly, surprised to the bright gleam in his light brown eyes as he'd declared it. He held the makeshift hook between his forefingers as if it were a piece of Eden that would bring him all the fish in the world just by the use of it. . .or maybe he was starving as badly as she was. If the river wasn't full of dangerous crocodiles, she would've been swimming in it already with a hunting knife clenched between her teeth.

"Fishing" she corrected matter-of-factly with half-lidded eyes set in a dry expression in an effort to calm any testosterone surges within him.

The master assassin simply scoffed to her need to constantly correct him (would she ever tire of pointing out her futuristic knowledge?) and stood up from the dusty ground to state cockily, "_My_ way sounds better."

She proceeded to follow him as they abandoned making a fire and began the journey downhill towards the calm riverbank, her feet picking up dirt along the way while his footsteps created a light indent on the ground instead. The cold air of dawn flowed under her robes as they fluttered against the wind, causing goosebumps to break over her legs and toward her torso while Altaїr remained impenetrable to the elements. Jabbing a finger in his direction, she pointed out sarcastically as her teeth tried not to chatter, "_Your_ way is wrong so go learn some decent vocabulary, eagle boy."

"Well, according to how I am perceived in _your _world, anything I do is nothing short of majestic and breathtaking because an assassin like me is _never _wrong" he justified smartly as he took a giant leap in advantage over their argument and she gaped like a fish to the flawless win. Her cold fists shook with disbelief to being knocked off her oracle pedestal by her own claims and Altaїr didn't hide the triumphant grin when he ordered uncaringly, "Now, be a loyal Assassin's Creed fan and follow me to _hunt _fish."

Her fists comically shook in the air as she declared with a catty hiss to being defeated, "D'oh! I should've just faked not knowing anything like a Sue character with amnesia and had all of you tend to me."

He shot her an awkward glance from up ahead to her strange words and she waved a hand at him in dismissal since he would never understand the vile Mary Sue creatures that delved in the realm of fiction. Instead, she frowned disappointedly to lacking humor in his era and muttered under her breath, "Don't worry, I would've killed you within hours because you're not meant to be lovey dovey. It would save you the humiliation."

. . . "Vivian, shut up."

* * *

After a breakfast consisting of freshly roasted barbus pumilus fish over an open fire, the trio were rowing upstream toward the capital of Cairo. . ._two _hours later than anticipated. Their fishing trip hadn't gotten off to a great start as Altaїr almost fell asleep while holding the fishing rod (due to his lack of sleep) and Vivian had yelled a few choice words at the submerged fish for having bad luck. Thankfully, they managed to catch two fat fishes to share between them and called it a morning because they were late as it was and she hated to see an animal put out of its misery.

Vivian had never eaten a fish straight out of the water, her father preferred to buy filleted fish from the market to simply throw on the frying pan to make it easier, so she enjoyed pulling the skeleton off the meat of the fish right before serving it. The crispy skin just added to the deliciousness of the herby meat (which Malik had happily supplied his cooking herbs for) as she picked at it with her bare fingers since forks were lacking. She'd expected a sharp reprimanding from Altaїr for being unladylike in the middle of nowhere but received no such scolding as the two men had the same grin on their faces as they'd devoured everything down like lions. The funniest part of the meal was seeing Altaїr use one of the skeleton's bony spines in place of a toothpick to pick his teeth clean as he relaxed against a log like a lazy cat laying on the porch on a hot summer day.

At the moment, they were using river's current flow that journeyed south near the left shoreline as Altaїr rowed by himself while the other two played lookout for any villages near the shore. They needed exact directions toward Cairo since Malik's map, their handy compass (made of a magnetized needle- which took some time to find in Jerusalem- and a spongy cork as both rested in a wooden bowl with water), and the sun's movements could only help the amateur explorers so far to travel almost 100 miles. Altaїr did not have the slightest inkling to get lost in a land unknown to him and his eyes slowly wandered to the bag of ginger root stored in one of the pockets of his leather belt. He definitely did _not _want to wander aimlessly over water because it was quickly becoming his nemesis on this expedition and a quick cure wasn't in sight yet.

"Vivian, give me the facts on Cairo" he ordered coolly as he tried to keep focused on his objective and not on the water driving the boat, hating not being in absolute control which is why he kept rowing in his own form of rebellion.

Vivian's gaze shifted away from watching the water current pass by because she was the complete opposite, calmly at peace over the river as the calls of birds soothed her worries. She sat up at attention as she remembered she was not in her time where trips like this were usually of the romantic type or for fun in advanced societies. His beckoning had completely burst her fantasy bubble of Altaїr praising her loyalty with a low silky voice that would swoon women in the millions while Malik kept to himself in the back as he smoked idly but fashionably alluring, throwing pink flower petals into the air to make it romantic. Altaїr failed to see her eyes clearing up from their dull glazed look from daydreaming and he remarked sardonically to gain her full attention, "_Anytime_ would be nice, before we're old or thrown out of the canoe to be eaten alive by hungry crocodiles or heaven forbid, a fat hippopotamus."

Her romantic fantasy dream turned into instant tragedy when the scenery transformed into modern times where the canoe, now a pretty little white boat, was tipped over by a mob of angry ducks. A jean and leather jacket clad Altaїr fell headfirst into the cold water and failed to stay afloat when said gang of ducks began to peck him to death but his lack of swimming killed him instantaneously as Vivian watched on with both horror and intrigue.

_Vivian slapped the back of her hand to her forehead as she slipped into the woeful girlfriend (despite she did nothing to help) and watched the last air bubbles of her dear assassin break the surface before wailing dramatically, "Oh no, my beloved Altaїr has fallen to a gang of ducks!"_

"_Technically, he drowned" the dry tone of Malik stated, who casually drank a Heineken despite his best friend had just drowned before his very eyes and did nothing to help either. He was dressed more fashionably with a black blazer and denim jeans as a pair of sunglasses covered his eyes from the daytime sun._

"_I'm all alone now!" she sobbed dramatically with the 'fair lady in distress and in need of rescue' mode as her pink summer dress fluttered in the wind, giving off the Marilyn Monroe sensuality of innocence until it gave Malik a perfect view of her rear end. That got his sunglasses off faster than unleashing a hidden blade into a Templar's chest._

_A hand shot out of the water as Altaїr stubbornly held off from dying and Vivian grabbed one of the paddles to smack it repeatedly as she admonished hysterically, "Bad Altaїr! Die! Why. . .won't. . .you. . .stay down?"_

_A few more hits finished off the assassin and the hand no longer resurfaced to try to latch onto the boat or show Vivian he was still alive. Malik nodded to himself as he took another sip of his beer and she brushed back tendrils of unkempt hair as she cheerfully stated, "Okay, now I'm completely alone."_

_Another paddle boat bumped hers and out of nowhere, Desmond valiantly jumped into theirs without making a single movement in the boat from the action. Kneeling down on one knee, the modern day assassin declared with a voice fit for Shakespeare drama or what men would dread in a theatre play they were unwillingly dragged to, "Oh, fair Vivian, what tragedy has befallen thy- I mean, thou! The beauty of it is that with these convenient modern times- which you somehow managed to create- I am completely available and willing to replace the cruel Altaїr."_

"_I'm the best friend, if anything, I have first dibs!" Malik suddenly argued as he chucked his beer at Desmond's head and like a Mary Sue's dream, Vivian's *ahem* tragedy turned into a brawl between assassins._

_Vivian, the fan girl, wasted no time in taking advantage and she wrapped an arm around both their necks as she sang blissfully to their turn of events,_

"_Oh, boys, why must you be hardheaded?  
Don't you know anything about the simplicity of the future?  
We can all love each other. . .as long as no ring's involved!"_

"_Hurra-a-a-ah!" they cheered in song as they held the last note in soprano for a few seconds and their little boat traveled to the center of the lake by mysterious forces that nobody knew._

_Shaun somehow managed to appear inside their cramped boat and the blond man asked with glittering puppy eyes full of hope in song, "May I join too?"_

_The record player came to an abrupt halt as it scratched horribly to end the happy vibe and Vivian aimed her thumb away from the lake as she flat out refused, "Go check another fangirl's dream. This one's full. . .but if Ezio's somewhere around here, he's more than invited. If anything, he has the all-access pass here."_

"**VIVIAN!"**

Her dream world exploded in a blaze of imaginary fireworks as Altaїr turned to glare at her with one of his most enraged scowls and she swallowed nervously for lingering in her crazy realm of daydreams. Nonetheless, she was happy that fantasy Vivian drowned him in the most humiliating way; truly, she never would've thought sweet fluffy ducks could kill an assassin.

_Still, why does every daydream have all of us breaking into song?_, she thought curiously to what the deep recesses of her mind conjured when she was sleep deprived: Desmond becoming the new Niko Bellic of the grand theft auto franchise as he ran down Templars in a muscle car, Ezio comparing notes on seducing women with modern day Barney Stinson, and Altaїr performing Swan Lake in his white robes. Her best one was having Malik gathering and giving tips to other sidekicks from different realms like Tolkien's Samwise Gamgee, Sherlock Holmes' Dr. Watson, Star Wars' Chewbacca, Batman's Robin, Metal Gear's Otacon, and Mario's Luigi as they all sat at an interview table. _Hmm, I need to stay hydrated before I end up daydreaming more than usual. Still, it was funny to have Ezio's uncle and Mario from Nintendo saying 'Ey, it's a me, Mar-io!'_

The twitch in Altaїr's left eye demanded that she start before he gave her a hidden blade to the heart.

"As you know, Saladin rules Egypt entirely as its Sultan alongside the Ayyubid dynasty in accordance to the Fatimid Caliphate while he fights in the Third Crusade but that will soon end in the coming month in September- I follow the Roman calendar- as a truce is set forth," she quickly explained the rough facts of the era since she wasn't in the mood to go swimming with the crocodiles and tapped her forehead to see if it would get her mental juices flowing. As a history major, she was constantly perusing facts and reading in between the lines of her textbooks for any new knowledge so she wasn't entirely useless.

The scowl Altaїr kept directing straight at her got her neurons firing faster than a Stormtrooper on Luke Skywalker and she continued to inform him with a fast high-pitched voice, "Right now, his campaign is north so we will have no interference with military infantries unless we stay for more than a month but by March of next year, he will no longer be among the living or acting as Sultan. Military enforcement here is known to have contained foot soldiers, a light infantry, and foot archers to chase enemies on foot rather than fight an invasion because let's face it, their borders are pretty secure right now."

Her lips widened into a smile as she handed him the best view point in Cairo by informing him confidently, "If you're looking for a building to climb with a sight to behold, I'd suggest Cairo's citadel as it is the newest stronghold and palace for its leader. Careful though, despite its not fortified by a wall yet, the ruling family will be inside and wherever there's royalty, there's security ready to hand your ass to you on a silver platter."

Her green eyes brightened as she added in perkily with her geeky nature to finish her facts, "Oh, and they make the unique lusterware which is made nowhere else. You know, it has a porcelain look with a metallic finish," she paused when she realized the assassins didn't seem the least bit interested and her shoulders slumped as she mumbled under her breath with defeat, "in case anybody wants souvenirs."

Altaїr scoffed to her peppy voice over artisan pottery of all things, especially since his time was supposed to be archaic by her standards, and asked derisively, "What can _you _afford at this point?"

Vivian reminded herself to conjure another daydream later on where the master assassin would once again meet a tragic cruel fate full of dark humor at her hands and decided crocodiles would be used this time.

"Not _me_, I can barely feed myself and I'm lost in your time so I highly doubt a time vortex will let me keep historic artifacts that will defy even more laws in my world" she shot back defensively but her smart-alecky words rang true on the matter and he shook his head to her sarcastic bite. Her world confused him greatly and the more he tried to learn, the more boggled his mind became.

Malik grabbed a wooden bowl to fill it with water from the river and splashed it over his face to combat the humidity that kept building up as the hours passed. He didn't bother to wipe the refreshing water away as it traveled down his warm neck to revitalize his parched skin and use his hand to dampen his short black hair to cool his scalp, leaning back against the canoe with an exasperated sigh from the heat, "So what's the plan?"

"You speak to the traders for information, pay a few peasants to talk, keep an eye out for Templars while I scope out the land and hopefully take out a few without raising alarm" he explained each of their roles carefully to make sure each understood as he kept his eyes on the shoreline off to his left as Cairo was located there whereas Giza was on right. Nonetheless, he would stop at the first settlement to make sure they were on the right track and find a trader to refill their canteens because each of them had guzzled down theirs hours ago.

He could feel Vivian's awaiting eyes boring holes into his back and he decided to give her a task this time rather than intentionally ignore her like he usually did which is what he loved doing best. Maybe it was time to upgrade her from the role of a pesky mosquito to a yipping loyal dog and he smirked evilly to the image of a green eyed puppy named Vivian that obeyed his every word. He decided to indulge her creativity and uncanny ability for causing mayhem at the most inopportune times and gave her his set of orders with a firm voice, "Vivian, you follow behind me and make sure I don't catch anybody's attention as I wander the crowds and climb onto the buildings. I don't know if I will be able to blend in seamlessly in this new land so I need you to keep a careful eye out. Use whatever means necessary to divert them and no, I _don't _mean lure them with your womanly charms to rob them blind."

"Hey! I'm not that stupid and stop insulting my femininity" she retorted defensively as he'd brightened up her day by giving her a responsibility for the first time rather than the usual 'go wait outside and count the clouds' but he popped her hope bubble with a hidden knife with the insulting words. She was tempted to retaliate by chucking his travel pack into the river in revenge but that might seal her death immediately and she liked living despite the shabby conditions. Instead, she let it slide for now (but added it to her mental list labeled 'Altaїr insults that need future retribution' as she bided her time) and began to mentally prepare her disguises as she agreed cheerfully, "But other than that, sure thing. Hmm, what shall I be? Peasant, random drunk, heretic, singing bard-"

"No, I wouldn't wish _that _one on civilians. . .only Templars" Altaїr interjected with a short dry laugh full of mockery toward her singing voice that could shatter glass with its horrible pitch. Vivian simply blew a strawberry in his direction since throwing him out of the boat would have the river stained in crimson blood within minutes. She wouldn't waste her energy using vulgar hand signals behind his back either since the humidity was bad enough as she wore her long robes (she hated the things with a passion) but laughed aloud when Malik to tried the odd action. Altaїr groaned aloud with misery to what his friend had been tempted by and reduced to at her hands and questioned exasperatedly, "Great, what did you teach him now?"

Malik laughed to his grouchy tone as he relaxed, watching the gently sloping water for any suspicious activity while he practiced his newly learned skill with a grin. His grin was infectious as she watched the dai sitting so casually at the back despite the danger assassins usually brought and Vivian informed easily with a smile, "It's called a raspberry. You use it to show boredom or friendly disagreement between friends, kids do it to their parents sometimes too- but never to superiors."

"Speaking of superiors, how do you think Ilias is doing with the new charge?" Malik spoke up with intrigue to their assassin business (as Vivian liked to call it in parody to the mafia) since with Altaїr leaving Masyaf and him following after, somebody needed to maintain control and keep the Grand Master alert to new information that arose.

Altaїr had debated for a long time on undertaking the journey around Africa but his brotherhood understood the necessity to keep an upper hand against the Templars. He might have scattered their organization when he killed their leaders in Acre, Jerusalem, Damascus, and Cyprus but they needed to be vanquished entirely. Vivian had told them they would gain an advantage over time as they infiltrated politics and business to dominate high society but he would put an end to that somehow. The first order was to reinforce Masyaf from future attacks and finish off leaderless Templars that lingered near their cities. The second was to begin creating new guilds in liaison to the bureaus to spread their Order into secrecy as Altaїr envisioned Europe and West Asia as the first to span over the world.

Altaїr trusted Ilias Al-Farik since he was five years his senior, a close friend just as Malik now was, and had followed him loyally like Rauf when he first took on the rank of Grand Master of the Assassin's Order. Like Malik, he was calm under pressure and exceptionally knowledgeable in field of science as he spent his free time in Masyaf's library to increase his knowledge of the world and those of the past. Ilias had been the only one he'd explained Vivian's true origins about because he couldn't find a logical explanation himself and sought his friend's input on the matter. Unfortunately, Ilias had been completely confounded as well to the predicament since nothing could cause such a thing and incidents that had occurred were myths relating to the arrival of gods. Obviously, Vivian was not one of them. It was his advise to keep her close under watch that allowed Altaїr not to follow through with the idea of prolonged torture or simply executing her to prevent her capture by Templars.

"You mean the guy with the handsomely rugged features and gorgeous mane of black hair?" Vivian sighed blissfully with romanticism gleaming in her green eyes to the attractive dark-haired man she'd seen wandering the castle and meeting Altaїr throughout her day there. Actually, for the strangest reasons, it seemed most of Altaїr's companions were ogle worthy for any AC fan and wondered whether they should change their name to the 'Order of Extraordinary Handsome Assassins' to suit them better. Even Ezio's little group lacked grotesquely ugly assassins, if anything, they became _better _looking! Altaїr chose to ignore her lewd comment as he awkwardly watched her hug herself with delightful glee out of the corner of his eye. The woman truly boggled the mind sometimes.

"I'm sure he will be fine. . .although I hope he remembers to feed my Rafiki" Altaїr commented casually about his beloved Eurasian hobby falcon, which he'd trained himself in falconry to carry communication between himself and a select group of his most trusted assassins. Rafiki was his most treasured animal companion, more than his stallion, and Altaїr hoped he was being taken care of very well at home. He'd cared for the falcon since it had been an egg seven years ago when he found solace among aviaries of Masyaf and he'd become intrigued by the three little eggs the mother had been caring for. He'd chosen Rafiki for himself when the falcon had left his mother's care and practically treated the bird like his own son because there were times Malik almost gagged when he saw Altaїr feeding his falcon a small dead bird. Altaїr could've chosen a larger falcon like the peregrine or the lanner but there was a subtle elegance in the smaller falcon and being inconspicuous during flight was best done by a graceful hobby.

Vivian suddenly burst into loud laughter and it almost frightened both assassins as she went into hysterics, holding her aching sides as she rolled onto her back on the floor of the canoe. Tears threatened her tear ducts to the name the assassin had chosen for his pet falcon and a full minute passed by before she could gain control of her mouth and lungs to ask giddily, "_Rafiki_? Am I correct in knowing you call him that?"

Altaїr didn't find the humor in her laughter because nobody insulted his avian friend and coldly asked between clenched teeth, "Yes, what of it?"

"You've got to be kidding me, gaming gods!" she exclaimed as she broke into more uncontrollable laughter and Altaїr was tempted to knock her over the head with one of his paddles to shut her up. Seconds later, he reconsidered the idea and approved wholeheartedly when her laughter hurt his ears. He pulled out the right paddle out of the water without making a sound and swiftly turned around to smack her right in the kneecap with the wooden object. She yelped to the sudden hit to her knee and turned to the side in an attempt to sit up in the rolling canoe. That fateful move granted Altaїr another hit as her rear end flashed in his direction while she tried to balance herself and whack!

"_**OW!"**_

Malik struggled not to laugh from his spot as the resounding smack of a wet oar striking a clothed butt echoed with her shout gave him the entertainment he solely needed on this trip. Vivian's flushed face of embarrassment brought a pleased smirk to Altaїr's face as he watched her rub her throbbing butt and kept a vigilant eye on her because she was liable to be turbulently violent when angered. Instead, she blew into a rage of a whole other language entirely and he was ready to knock her out for real this time as he yelled with unbridled threat to overlap her voice in volume, "If you dare to put some kind of curse on me, I'll knock you into whatever afterlife you believe in _far _before I end up in mine!"

Malik decided to intervene on this one before they broke into a serious brawl over water and stated flatly with sarcasm lacing his voice, "She's speaking Castilian."

. . . "Oh."

Altaїr regained his cool composure from the slip since he rarely exploded verbally on anyone like that and snapped in her direction with a scowl, "Well, tell her to speak in our language before I accidentally end her life prematurely."

"Stop talking like I'm deaf, I'm right here" she cut in curtly to being ignored like a petulant child on a time out and tried not to groan from her aching body parts as her nerves throbbed painfully. She couldn't believe he'd struck her butt with a paddle without a care and rubbed her sore butt in an attempt to alleviate the burning pain. Her white teeth bared at him with the fury of a badger and she shouted indignantly to his heinous action, "How _dare _you spank me? Ever thought of using your hand instead? What kind of sane person uses a paddle, you psychopath?"

"I'd rather not contaminate my hand, thank you" Altaїr replied sardonically with a sneer because he was damn proud of what he'd done and didn't allow the insignificant glare she shot his way affect him. He raised the wooden oar into the air again with a menacing motion that silently implied he wouldn't hold back on swelling her ass even further until it was as red as a tomato.

Vivian instantly took cover against the side of the canoe, huddling against it with a quiver to protect her tender bum from another spanking but yelled out scornfully, "I can't believe you're this much of a jerk! I like digital Altaїr better because he gave no sass and it was all eye ogling," a pitiful groan left her lips as she held her butt, "Oh god, my ass is on fire!"

Malik burst into laughter to her bold words, guilt striking his conscience despite the guffaws leaving his mouth as Vivian rocked herself to alleviate the pain since sitting on a canoe was not going to make it easier whereas walking would have. Altaїr didn't share any of his friend's laughter (well, inwardly, he was rolling in his amusement with a laughing fit) and kept a straight face as he ruthlessly scolded her, "Keep insulting me and you're going to literally spew fire from it by the time I finish."

Before he attempted to shamefully spank her like a child again, she decided to explain why she'd laughed in the first place since it apparently caused him to fly into a mad diabolical rage, "I was laughing because in my time, that name is associated with a illustrated baboon that was used in a children's story by a company named Disney. He's a very sarcastic and sharply witty animal but extremely wise in getting the true ruler of the African savanna, a lion named Simba, back in his rightful place as king instead of his evil conniving uncle who killed the awesome older king to steal the throne. Also, my sister, Penelope, loved that baboon and his walking staff."

Altaїr failed to see the humor since he and Vivian ran on two different wavelengths in that genre and she insisted with a big smile before he decided to unexpectedly spank her again, "He was funny! You _can't _blame me for laughing over something as simple as a name."

"Can and will" the master assassin stated coldly and returned to rowing the canoe without further word. What kind of people named a baboon after his precious falcon? How dare they mar a name like that?. . .although, a wise baboon was interesting- no, he would not fall for childish tales.

Vivian narrowed her eyes into slits for his rude mannerisms at carrying on a conversation and wondered if the interrogator ever faded away to reveal the sociable part of him. With the tense ambiance constantly casting a dark cloud over them, she doubted there was a kind or friendly side to the man and the question was whether it was due to his natural instinct as an assassin or he flat out hated her by default like water and oil.

"Tell me this story about the lion king and Rafiki" Malik spoke up curiously because he wanted to hear the fictional tales from her time to gauge the difference between their eras despite his friend seemed less than excited to hear about a baboon with his falcon's name. The dai had never been fickle and enjoyed many things in life, tales being the most riveting as cultures defined what made them worthy of storytelling.

Her frown turned upside down immediately as she grinned excitedly to tell her favorite Disney movie and she began the tale, "Well, it begins with a song-"

Altaїr's brown eyes widened to their fullest as he realized fate was coming back to bite him on his ass for the spanking and he shouted with rarely heard desperation in his voice, "Oh heavens, NO!"

"_From the day we arrive on the planet. . . ."_

* * *

_Elsewhere at Masyaf. . ._

Ilias stared at the pile of paper with specific commands left by his leader and despite he'd been working on it for more hours than he slept, it still didn't seem to downsize. He almost speculated that a spell was at work to renew each page that had been finished. As usual, the dark-haired man found silence in the first floor library underneath the Grand Master's study where missions were assigned and the noise of the birds (whether eagles, pigeons, falcons, hawks, or sparrows) used for communication between assassins rarely bothered him. Today though, a certain Hobby falcon and a young scientist were biting on his last strand of patience as one screeched in protest and the latter kept whimpering.

Bronze hands gently placed an inked feather on the wooden desk but Ilias was nothing short of calm when he turned to the left to demand wearily with a heated glare, "Bashir, would you feed that falcon already and stop making it screech?"

The younger assassin could only withdraw his fingers from the powerful falcon's beak before they were ripped off like the fragile limbs of other smaller birds. He absolutely abhorred having to be the one entrusted to feed Altaїr's falcon (despite the honor that it was) because the creature was absolutely finicky over who neared his vicinity. Five feet of range would automatically hand you its cold-blooded predatory gaze, three feet would have Rafiki's wings extending in a classic domineering pose that imitated his master's aura, and one foot would have him ripping a gaping hole into you whether by his talons or beak. Oh, how he missed being in his lab where only he could hurt himself and hated coming down to feed the little fiend, clenching his fists as he turned around to exclaim firmly, "It keeps trying to bite me!"

"I don't know why Altaїr decided to keep a private falcon for himself" Ilias sighed exasperatedly to his friend's choice and knew he should've said something when he first started keeping the animal in his quarters but he had to admit, the falcon had a natural uncanny ability in alluring favor from everyone. It happened to him four years ago when he'd been eating outside Masyaf to enjoy the peaceful scenic view of the Orontes Valley when the falcon had landed directly on his leg and began to eat the food on his wooden plate. He'd been ready to shoo him away but his onyx eyes, the brown markings on its head, the soft- almost innocent- beak, and a little tilt of its round head broke his resolve and Ilias allowed him to have the meat portion. Altaїr had laughed when he came back to inform him but it had been cut short when his friend stole his and ran off with the last laugh.

The new assassin-in-charge left the desk in a brisk stride, white robes billowing behind him as he approached the falcon stand with his tall physique and the brown falcon simply met his gaze like the calculating creature that he was. Ilias wore an expression fit for lecturing a toddler who didn't want to eat his carrots and he crossed his arms to speak clearly and directly, "Listen here, Rafiki, you need to eat and I need to help Altaїr protect the Order. Do this for me and I will grant you freedom throughout Masyaf for a week."

The falcon tilted his head to the side as all birds of prey did when curious but the next second, he leaned down to preen his feathers as he rejected the proposition. Bashir quietly glanced between both the man and bird as Ilias tapped his chin in thought to try another negotiation offer.

"All right, I will grant you the first flight to deliver Altaїr my message. . .to the bureau in Jerusalem because you are not fit to fly the distance that your master has traveled already" the assassin put forth to reach compromise and watched the falcon vigilantly for signs of acceptance or refusal.

The falcon tilted his head to the side again, forgetting his sudden interest with cleaning himself and Bashir blinked unsurely to what was happening in front of him. He was a scientist of weaponry, not of the mind, but this puzzled his mind by its sheer bizarreness. Scratching the side of his cloaked head, he skeptically asked his superior without fear of chastisement, "Are you. . .talking to a _bird_?"

"Birds of prey are highly intelligent creatures, spotting their prey safely from afar and formulating their plan just as an assassin does" Ilias explained quietly with a small smile in regards to the species as he slowly circled the bird stand and Bashir like a lioness analyzing its target, "Planning strategy and tactics to take down their prey, who is oblivious to the danger hovering above until at the very last second-"

"Gih!"

Bashir flinched with alarm when Ilias wrapped an arm around his neck and dug the thumb of his other hand into his back where the heart was located, lightly pressing against the spinal vertebrae protecting it. The young assassin tried to hide the twinge of fear from his face before Ilias warned him that assassins were fearless but the other man said nothing. The assassin in charge released him with a friendly laugh to ease the young man's sudden discomfort at being caught off guard and finished proudly with a smile, "And death comes in the form of a shadow from above. Remember that the next time you mock a bird, Bashir. . .especially this one, he finds you in the unlikeliest of places."

The young scientist was no longer frightened of only the dangerous falcon sitting on the bird stand and he raised his left eyebrow in curiosity to ask his older comrade, "You have an affinity for birds?"

"I have a natural curiosity of all living things" Ilias replied with a hearty laugh to his addiction to learning, especially by reading, since every assassin needed high attributes of both physical and mental conditioning. Rafiki called out to the men to finally accept its food for the day and Ilias grabbed the bag Bashir had been nervously holding to empty out the contents in the wooden bowl Altaїr had carved for it. He watched the falcon eat his meal for the day and raised a hand towards Rafiki in admiration to emphasize his point to Bashir, "You see? Mutual understanding will grant respect."

Frankly, Bashir had had enough of the devil bird to last a lifetime after taking care of it for the last two weeks since Altaїr left Masyaf. He was rather fond of keeping his fingers intact, especially for his type of profession, and flatly told his superior in all honesty, "Here's a thought: _you _keep the bird."

* * *

**A/N**: The title came from the Simpsons 'Homer The Great' episode where he undertook a series of Stonecutter initiation tests and one was called the Leap of Faith where he fell through five stories inside a building despite he was never supposed to do so. Anyway, this chapter ended up being long so I split it in half since a near 100 mile trip takes a while so Cairo will be in the next chapter where Altaїr fights a hippo and Vivian sings her modern age parody songs. I'm loving having to write this story (I like the shortness of the chapters- 15 pgs is short to me, don't know why) as we explore the humorous side of the AC world but keep it as factual as we can so it's not shredded into a travesty of a fanfic but I have you guys to keep an eye out for me.

I appreciate all of the new story/fav alerts which I'm completely happy for and I appreciate your feedback because it helps me better the story as a writer so thanks, my lovely reviewers:

_Kookie-douwh_: I'll try not to make the chapter's too lengthy to avoid having my readers zone out, I'm so used to writing 30+ pages for one of my stories and 20+ for another but having this AC story be shorter in length will hopefully have me posting them faster. I actually had to edit the outline because I totally left out Madagascar so that means more Altaїr time and we know Vivian's going to do something with lemurs. I'm so glad you liked the 'fresh prince' parody, I don't like having any of my characters sing songs from artists at all in stories so Vivian's actually my first but she parodies everything she screeches about (I also hate having my characters have the Mary Sue voice of an angel).

_Flyingcrispi_: Thank you so much, there's no way living near battle areas in the Crusades or venturing into the unknown during the 1190s would be anything but safe. There's always danger and with Vivian being a newborn baby in there, we go along for the ride because as modern day people, we'd probably be lost too (I'd be crying over the lack of decent toothbrushes).

_Hollownature_: You're welcome, thanks for liking it!

_Morgause Lady of Avalon_: I know, my semester drained the life out of me since that last update in march and I slept for two weeks straight until my energy came back. Vivian will undoubtedly keep him in check (by having him treat people politely) and embarrass him beyond anything (her crazy impersonations) but they'll grow on each other as time passes. So far, everything with Cyprus finished so they're in August of 1192 here, and Maria's traveling on her own to find answers but she'll return to Masyaf soon (she's pregnant, after all). I didn't see why she had to be a hardcore Templar either (but better that than Chalice girl, which I really don't understand as a writer or to its mythology), although I did like her boldness at avoiding her gender role, but the creators gave her a crappy death so I'm gonna avoid all that.

_IpiRayan_: Unpredictability is what she does best, especially with enemies. I already have her singing a song to Templars about why they should let her join while Altaїr sneaks in to kill them. It's parodied from the Simpsons 'Stonecutters' song as it starts, 'Who controls the British crown? Who keeps the Assassin's Order down?'.

_Jake the Dog_: Ah, I love your reviewer name! It's still a bit early for them to show any romance since they're at three weeks on the road but the tight knit friendship- which is a great starter in any romance- is on its way. I will use the 'baby song' ('Baby, I know what you need, You need your little assassin socks') since there was an Adventure marathon before the new season popped up and the song parodies came to me. I just finished making the one for 'Billy' ('Who's the greatest assassin ever? A hero of renown!') because Altaїr is a perfect match! Apparently, there was a reference to AC when LSP was transformed into a cyborg in that episode and she had the two hidden knives on her hands- or so, the wiki says.

_What-I-Got_: Thank you so much for spotting that problem, I corrected it as quickly as I saw it. I can't believe I let that one slip by my eye.

_AdorethatFaith_: Thanks a bunches, I hope you enjoy this chapter too!**  
**

* * *

**Next time****:**

"All the assassins at Masyaf say  
Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh  
Walk like an Egyptian  
Walk like an Egyptian- _ow!"_

A resounding wet splat echoed the strike of Altaїr's paddle on her behind but the hit held no real strength, just a warning thump to tell her to be quiet before he did spank her like he'd done the first time. He'd repeatedly hit her every time she grinded his nerves and from his spot at the bow of the canoe, he justified with an irritated voice, "You've been singing that song nonstop for the last. . ."

Briefly glancing at the clear blue sky above, he pinpointed the sun's location and flatly stated, "_Two _hours. You need to stop before I drown you and grant the Egyptian people a favor."


	9. Walk Like An Egyptian

**Walk Like an Egyptian  
**

* * *

"All the assassins at Masyaf say  
Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh  
Walk like an Egyptian  
Walk like an Egyptian- _ow!"_

A resounding wet splat echoed the strike of Altaїr's paddle on Vivian's behind but the hit held no real strength, just a warning thump to tell her to be quiet before he really did spank her like he'd done the first time. He'd repeatedly hit her every time she grinded his nerves with her chirpy tone (especially her rhythmic tunes) and from his spot at the bow of the canoe, he justified with an irritated voice, "You've been singing that song nonstop for the last. . ."

Briefly glancing at the clear blue sky overhead, he pinpointed the sun's location to estimate the time by its present angle and flatly stated with contempt in his brown eyes, "_Two _hours. You need to stop before I drown you and grant the Egyptian people a favor."

Her green eyes narrowed as she hated having her rear end wet because of his short fuse and hoped it would dry before reaching the city of Cairo. Who would want to enter the capital with a wet butt for all to see during their first visit? It was the equivalence of visiting Disneyland with flashy Marvel costumes; you'd be an obvious eyesore. The group was on the second day of the journey toward the city after receiving correct coordinates from a fishing village yesterday since Altaїr insisted they know exactly where to go rather than row blindly and hope to strike gold. With the rapid pace they'd set (again, at the insistence of a certain aquaphobic assassin), they were confident they would arrive before the afternoon came.

The day, as always, was bathed in humidity due to the jungle-like environment surrounding northern Egypt as drier conditions had yet to arrive but a cool breeze flowed in once in a while to offer sweet relief as they traveled. Altaїr's neck was sweating profusely underneath his hood as he refused to take it down as an assassin never would in public, even over the water as small boats randomly passed them throughout their trip. Malik suffered less heat than his companion as he doused himself with river water every once in a while to keep cool as he felt every inch of his skin was sweating and the lack of a nearby bathhouse disappointed him straight into heat-induced depression. Altaїr knew he'd have to write about the different temperatures of the foreign land to Ilias to update their encyclopedic knowledge of the world for future assassins venturing south. He couldn't have his assassins boiling alive in their robes as they traveled down the Nile and would suggest land travel if they weren't in a hurry since it offered shade unlike the exposed river.

"You know, a simple '_Vivian, would you kindly stop singing?_' would've done wonders, Robin Hood" she said sarcastically as her fingers touched the large brown wet spot on the back of her robes and her lips twisted into a frown at the blotch. Great, now people would think she peed herself again. If she wasn't so afraid he'd butcher her on his hidden blade, she would've beat him over the head with a paddle to knock some humility into him.

She'd been mortified when they arrived at the fishing village yesterday and Altaїr forced her to join them (the man had serious trust issues that would've paid for a psychiatrist's vacation home), leading to her walking backwards so people wouldn't see the dark blotch. Of course, grabbing Altaїr to cover her from the other side with his own body hadn't gone very well since he wasn't keen on physical contact either and that led towards more attention to her wet butt when he shoved her aside. She would never show her face in that village again after what she endured with the residents long stares and hushed whispers, especially when Altaїr prolonged her suffering further by stating she had issues since birth. His precise words had been 'despite the pretty face, you wouldn't want to be married to her. She pees herself. . .constantly'.

Grumbling inaudibly under her breath, she vowed she wouldn't have that problem again in Cairo and literally took off the outer layer of her robes that suffered the most water damage to save the other two layers underneath. Malik yelped aloud to seeing his new friend cast aside clothing since women covered themselves modestly in their time and one rarely saw anything above the ankles, under the neck, or past the wrists. Vivian merely sighed gratefully at cooling her boiling skin since one less layer meant less chance of heatstroke and she smoothed out her wet layer to drape it across her spot on the bench to let it airdry with the sun's heat. Happy that she was now in a sleeveless dress that reached down to the middle of her legs, she laid back to grin joyfully but her friend's sudden yell caused her to turn around. Seeing his wide eyes, she became alarmed to possible danger and asked worriedly with haste, "What's wrong? Crocodile? Ah, damn it, don't tell me it's a hippo!"

She was on alert instantly and charged forward to grasp Altaїr's arms as they rowed forward, surprising the assassin to the sudden physical touch as she tried to ward off any predatory attention by stopping further ripples in the water. Malik was almost tempted to lie about why he yelped when he saw his friend fall back from his struggle with the frantic woman and both of them crashed onto the floor of the canoe, paddles thumping against the hard wooden floor. The dai could only slap a hand to his forehead in dismay to what he'd inadvertently caused when Vivian's bare legs dangled in the air while Altaїr tried to free himself from their tangled limbs, yelling aloud with irritation written across his hooded face, "What is wrong in that mind of yours?"

Vivian quickly recovered from the fall, which was embarrassing enough in its compromising position as she pushed him away with blushing cheeks that she tried to cover with her hands. In an era that was overly modest, she still carried her propriety from hers as any sophisticated woman did. Coughing awkwardly as she turned to lower the skirt of her brown dress as it hiked over her knees, she justified her actions with a firm expression, "But Malik saw-"

"Woman, have you _no _shame?" Altaїr roared furiously with his hawk-like glare as she once again broke the stoic mask of the assassin and Vivian winced as she stared down a furious bear. He couldn't believe he was seeing her dressed in a state befitting paid harlots on the streets as her lean arms were visible, faint hints of muscle contours on her upper arms from the daily carrying of supplies and rowing. Her bare feet wiggling over the floorboard added the last touch as she scowled at him for his harsh critique of her outfit since she was simply wearing a sleeveless dress. A dress! True, it was a little thin in fabric but with the unbearable heat, she couldn't tolerate wearing thick garments under her robes and it wasn't transparent in the slightest so she couldn't see his disagreement. She wore another similar layer underneath in black to cover any kind of transparency while her old-fashioned undergarments were all in check (she tightened her chest in cloth anyway so what in the world could she give a view of?).

"In my time, this is beyond normal" she justified because she wasn't looking to fry under the sun like an egg on a scorching sidewalk and pinched the hem of her brown dress. It had the appearance of a simple dress that anyone could buy to wear for the summertime and she sighed with exasperation to the archaic times, "If you think this is bad, you should see what women my age wear at night to dance. That would give you five simultaneous heart attacks in a row!"

He was about to blurt that he didn't care what women from whatever-year-she-was-from wore because she was in his time where garb like that was considered scandalous and she should heed their norms. Vivian clamped her right hand over his mouth to silence the next barrage of insults ready to fling forth and tried to reach a compromise by requesting calmly, "Look, I'm not used to such humid conditions and my insides are literally boiling in their own juices at this point. There's nobody around and I'm only putting it to dry since _you _wanted to use your handy paddle to exert your assassin authority. . .so if anything, this is your fault."

Malik groaned miserably into his hand as she said the four words that automatically set Altaїr to detonate into full blown hostility. He took cover in the back of the canoe as the assassin's brown eyes narrowed into dangerous slits that would've had killing power on their own if he willed it and Altaїr hissed dangerously between thinned lips, "How _dare _you-"

Vivian hiked up the hem of her dress to bare her leg up to the thigh in the classic pin up girl style of the 20th century in a last effort to render him silent and it worked marvelously as his eyes widened instantly. The social norms of this time were lost on the poor woman as she struggled adjusting to the culture shock as well but she didn't feel ashamed of what normal women her age saw as natural in her era. It was the equivalence of wearing shorts! Frankly, she was profusely embarrassed because she'd yet to find a decent razor that wouldn't cut her skin and not risk giving her tetanus but Altaїr didn't seem to care about her shaving problem. His eyes finally managed to snap away from their glued position on her bare leg and he clenched his fists to admonish her appalling tactics with a heated scowl, _"Vivian!"_

"What? It was the only way to get you to calm down before you exploded right out of that white hood" she rationalized before she was declared an evil seductress and stabbed to death by a hidden blade to be dumped in the Nile as crocodile food. Smoothing out her dress into its full length as she made it wrinkle free, she avoided eye contact to reduce the kindling burning in his eyes that wanted her to burn in a river of lava. The man was a serious typhoon to be trifled with and Vivian didn't see why wearing the hood made him more ominous because if anything, the murderous gleam in his eyes would've killed off enemies like Medusa's gaze. Looking at the top of his hood to simultaneously speak to him directly and avoid his gaze, she requested calmly, "All I'm asking is a moment to cool down."

"You're distracting Malik" he pointed out directly to shift focus onto the dai, who's face reddened to being placed in the spotlight since he was an innocent bystander. Vivian rolled her eyes with disgruntlement as he tried to find reasons to oppress her behavior and felt like a rebellious teenager arguing with her father. Heaven forbid what he'd do with his own future children should they disobey him. Oh, the joy she would feel if Altaїr could ever meet Ezio and see the vast difference between them despite being of the same bloodline.

Malik sat up instantly as he was called to attention and his brown eyes darted between the exasperated Vivian and the enraged Altaїr, both who were looking to him to decide what side he would choose. His friend looked ready to murder anyone who dared question his Grand Master authority while Vivian seemed more likely to pass out from heat exhaustion. He couldn't blame Vivian for her forgetfulness on their customs since she'd barely been with them for a month and he'd begun to see her as a younger sister to guide throughout her new world. The ex-assassin decided to mark his neutral corner and risk Altaїr's wrath as he stated simply with a hint of amusement in his voice, "No, she's not. Besides, _I'm_ not the one who was shown a woman's bare legs so if anything, I'd say you were trying to mask your own distraction by the sight."

His words immediately caused Altaїr's left eye to twitch madly with restrained fury that would've brought a cataclysmic apocalypse throughout the world if he'd been a super volcano ready to burst.

"Trust me, these are not the legs of the 21st century" Vivian sighed pathetically to what her legs had become during the travel and would raid every shop owned by a woman in Cairo to pick up beauty secrets as their honey/milk secret came in handy. She'd rarely had time to buy anything since leaving Masyaf as Altaїr was adamant they cross the Nile as quickly as possible and denied her pleas unless it was for food (even then, he'd told her to go hunt something down). Wiggling her bare toes to let them nab some air in between the gaps, she explained the average legs of her world with a sheepish smile, "Lean, toned, and hairless is the style."

This caught the attention of both men since they'd never heard of such a thing and their puzzled expressions carried into their voices as they declared in unison, _"Hairless?"_

Her green eyes blinked with bewilderment since even Altaїr's piercing stare of confusion itself was unnerving and wondered if all of his emotional expressions carried underlying threat. He was just like Palpatine from Star Wars, playing nice with a frail old man smile while his eyes carved out your face into a jack-o-lantern. . .okay, maybe not to that extreme but the assassin's features were set on 'intimidating' all the time. Tearing her eyes away toward the more mild mannered Malik, she asked meekly as if being overheard would bring about the world's end, "You mean no woman shaves in this era?"

She took their chirping cricket worthy silence as a spot on positive and tilted her head to the side to ponder about that fact. The freedom of ditching a razor for life was overwhelming but a woman of her time needed the thing just as badly as deodorant (which this era also failed to supply) which told her the search continued. Her nose wrinkled for a second as she mused aloud with her newfound knowledge, "First of all, ew. And second. . ."

"Hallelujah to casting aside modern norms!" she cheered gratefully to how low she could sink her hygiene without drawing attention (it was pretty low) as she grabbed both assassins by the neck to pull them into a tight hug that had both men cheek-to-cheek with her. Her legs kicked happily as her bad day began to turn merrier with the news while both men began to wonder where her sudden strength had come from as she held them in her iron grip.

Altaїr tried to wrench himself free from her clutches since her ways were rather strange, not to mention bold, and he wasn't the type to initiate physical contact unless forced to do so. His feet kicked the air furiously as he found himself struggling in her grip, wriggling like a trapped eel as he snapped sternly with a scowl, "The boat is going to float off-course, you crazy wench!"

"All right, I-," she paused her happy moment when she spotted people walking near the shores of the fertile land to farm it and as luck would have it, she'd caught their attention in her state of dress. This time, blush crept onto her cheeks for being caught like a deer in headlights but refused to let it twist her facial features into coyness because she wasn't letting Altaїr have another win. Adults turned a curious eye to the wandering trio in the canoe as Vivian appeared cheerful, Malik was embarrassedly flustered, and Altaїr was downright furious, as the men hung limply from her arms at being discovered in such unsightly behavior.

Vivian widened her smile to the point that it was seen across the Nile itself to maintain a peaceful ambience (despite Mt. Altaїr bubbling behind her) and she declared perkily with cheer, "Don't mind me, kind people, I'm just traveling with my husbands. I'm a Mosuo traveling from the east and they're in my walking marriage so it's totally okay!"

"_Husbands?" _Altaїr hissed irately to what she'd just declared to complete strangers and she released him instantly so he could paddle in the right direction before the current altered their path. He was seriously considering leaving her alone for a few days so she could understand how the world work and appreciate his generosity for allowing her to tag along. Really, what kind of relationships formed in her world? He was an honorable monogamous man, even under a fake identity.

"Shut up and row, now!" she ordered briskly before anyone decided she was a heretic and had to be jailed in accordance to Egyptian laws. She gave the farmers a friendly wave of the hand that rivaled any Miss Universe contestant, but still horrible enough to fail at judging, and kept her eyes on the shoreline as she kept Malik in a one-armed hug to show off as her boy toy. The dai could only hang off her arm helplessly since his only arm was on the opposite side and watched the people on the shoreline. His eyes silently pleaded that they stop their awkward staring but knew that this was only the beginning to the crazy identities he'd have to play for more than a year.

Vivian smiled at him as the internal embarrassment faded away since her diversions came ever so handy and as any actress in training, she'd have to perfect her mediocre acting skills. She'd never been one for theater which was the ironic part, choosing to take art classes in drawing instead. Despite she'd tweaked the truth a little about the eastern culture, she reassured both of them for a sense of peace, "We'll be fine. Besides, they don't even know half the stuff I said."

"_I_ don't even know what you said" Malik sighed miserably to Vivian's cunning mind and hoped he wouldn't leave Africa with crazy farfetched identities attached to his name. The last thing he wanted to see was a wanted poster hanging throughout cities, already imagining his pouting face on the drawing as well as Vivian's grinning smile that bordered on hysteria and Altaїr's enraged scowl that leapt towards the artist that rendered it.

Even now, their faces mirrored those exact expressions.

* * *

"Row, row, row, our boat,  
Gently down the Nile  
Merrily, merrily, merrily, mer-"

"You say merrily _one _more time-" Altaїr threatened the singing woman and readied his right paddle to thwack her on the butt but she pulled back his hood to give his face a full dose of healthy sunshine. This time, she was one step ahead with his Achilles heel since he treasured that thing. The assassin's pupils dilated immediately to the full blast of sunlight and his face twisted into pain as he exclaimed loudly with drama fit for a dying hero, "Arrgh!"

Before he involuntarily dropped the paddles into the water, she pulled it back over his face for protection with a meek squeak since she hadn't expected _that _kind of reaction. What kind of assassin practically yells like the melting Wicked Witch when faced with bare sunlight? If anything, Vivian had expected his greatest fear to be large bodies of water and although she was close to realizing it, was baffled at having her revenge go wrong.

Patting the back of his head in a feeble attempt to calm the furious caged lion underneath the hood, she kicked herself mentally for being so daring with a man that could skewer her on his blade like shishkebab. She quickly turned away to sit down on her bench in the canoe, her voice hitching into higher notes as she apologized with nervous haste that still brought innocent humor into it, "Sorry, I didn't know assassins like you were vampires instead of cats. By that, I mean the light-fearing, blood sucking, bat transforming creatures of myth that are to be feared and respected, not the annoyingly gag worthy romantic modern versions which totally suck-"

"Vivian!" he stopped her rambles with a forceful yell as he placed the paddles inside the boat to rearrange the white hood over his head and block out the sunlight from bothering his vision. He shook his head to her crazy prattle since he'd yet to meet anyone like her and although he preferred the silent type of people, her knack to jump from one subject to another both riled and challenged him. Her odd quirk made him wonder if that's where her ability to shift from one persona to another came from or whether she suffered a speech impediment that forgot to pull the stop lever in her mind when talking. Giving her a sidelong glance as she twiddled her thumbs innocently and tried to win him over with a big sappy smile that failed in catastrophic proportions, he remarked dully with thinned lips, "I fear what your realm has become if _you _are the average woman-"

"Hey!"

"I don't want to interrupt your 'clash of the ages' spat but we're approaching Cairo" Malik broke into the feuding duo as he could see the outline of the capital as limestone buildings over the skyline greeted their eyes. Aiming a glance towards the eager Vivian, who completely disregarded her argument with Altaїr to become engrossed with the ancient city, Malik informed her state of dress amusingly, "You might want to dress up."

Twenty minutes later, Altaїr and Vivian were rowing the boat carefully towards the shore of the city as smaller boats could be seen tied to a makeshift wooden dock that managed visitors from all cities of trade. Careful, however, was the understatement as the trio fought the raging current that decided to pick on them and Altaїr kept the boat steady from tipping over into the water. He wasn't about to find death in water after surviving deadlier encounters and cursed the body of water since he'd yet to learn how to swim, glaring at the rolling death trap with absolute hatred. Vivian guided the turns from the back to make sure they kept on track towards the dock as she yelled aloud to nobody in particular, "Oh, come on! The Greeks call you Poseidon while I call you Aquaman. . .and I _demand _you help us!"

She spit out cold water when her newly dried robes became soaking wet again from the waist up and hoped she wouldn't be falling into the water to be sucked into a black hole of a whirlpool somewhere. That would be the suckiest death in all of Assassin's Creed and if anything, dying in a battle against Templars sounded far better. Altaїr spotted a calm opening in the turbulent current as they neared the docks and he shouted over to his group as his wet hood stuck to the contours of his face, "Hold on!"

Malik held onto their valuable belongings, and his queasy stomach, as the river's rolling waves rocked them to the sides with fury that matched the residing crocodiles and wished for his lost arm because losing his balance would not be pretty. Water splashed against their boat as it screamed to be let in, filling their canoe as they tore through one of the waves that crushed against them as it practically tried to absorb them underwater. Altaїr used all of his upper body strength to steer the boat toward the left, fighting against the water trying to suck the wooden paddle as he moved them continuously up the river. He wasn't about to submit defeat to that element of nature as his natural instinct to survive kicked in and he yelled out his next order, "Vivian, keep the boat steady, I'm making a break through it!"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" she called back with a grim expression on her wet face since she wasn't about to drown after traveling nonstop and kept the paddle in her hands in a firm grip. She might have the strength of an injured horsefly but she gave it her all as their boat sailed through the water, cutting towards the left as nature herself tried to prove otherwise.

Despite the fear pounding her heart like a jackhammer, she was impressed with Altaїr's determination since sea sickness was his mortal enemy but maybe this was his way to show the elements who was boss as they played the role of clothing during the rinse cycle. Either way, she was cheering for him. Otherwise, they'd all be dead and the AC timeline would go horribly awry without the Grand Master to pave the way for Ezio. Her arms ached as the strength of the current tried to rip the paddle away from her arms, and probably those too, and the water clouded her vision as it continuously splashed against her eyes with a gentle sting. Oh, what she'd give for water goggles to help them out but these were the circumstances they were dealt with. Malik decided to help out by telling them to move left or right to make sure they didn't fall into another current and head downstream again or further upstream.

The trio managed to survive their first river rafting by having Malik shout orders as the other two rowed furiously and eventually, the three cheered happily when they broke away from the main current to head left towards the shore. The small group were the picture perfect ending out of a summer blockbuster as their paddles waved in the air and Vivian already had a title for it if she ever returned home to type on her beloved laptop. 'Rolling Courage' by Viv88 featuring Altaїr Ibn. . .backspace the long name and add Malik to save fanfiction's limited summary. Yeah, that sounded nice in Vivian's adrenaline driven mind as water dripped down her forehead and into her eyes.

Their jolly victory was short-lived, however, as they faced their newest obstacle.

With the three being novices in water travel, they weren't prepared for the correct speed needed to dock at the shore and land came up to meet them faster than they could move towards preventing it. Malik quickly gave them the other two paddles to complete the two pairs as he ordered them to reverse their momentum to lower their speed as the dock was approaching them rapidly. Despite the nausea rolling within Altaїr's stomach, his agility wasn't hindered as he grabbed them and stabbed them into the water to begin rowing immediately as Vivian followed with a less graceful version as she spit out water from between her lips. They rowed backwards to try preventing it, Altaїr's soaked robes fighting against the current with all of his strength as his hood practically attached to his face like a mask and Vivian no longer cared about the state of her clothing as she used her weight in a last attempt to sway the boat.

"Abort! We're going to hit the shore!" Vivian cried out to the men as their rowing did absolutely nothing to avoid a collision and Altaїr threw down the paddles under the benches to protect them from the crash. Hopefully, their canoe would hold and avoid receiving any damage but if not, they were in for another bargaining day and Altaїr would hate having to act as anything but an assassin. That is, whether he lived long enough and didn't drown within minutes if he fell overboard into the river.

"Hold on!" Altaїr commanded his team with a grim expression and grabbed hold of one of the benches installed inside but changed his mind the very next second as he glanced down at his hands and realized something. Malik. His gaze met Vivian's as she dove towards the middle to grab their friendly dai, since he didn't have luxury of a good two-handed grip, and Altaїr joined her to make sure his friend wouldn't fall overboard. Malik was touched by their gesture as they left themselves vulnerable in order to protect him (especially Altaїr) and in that moment, he counted himself blessed for having such friendship despite his past qualms with Altaїr and not knowing much about Vivian.

A rough crash on the shore that hurled mud into the air from the sheer force and a scream later, people on the small sidewalk/dock dodged the sudden influx of water splashing all over the place and stared at the wooden canoe that brought it in. Malik picked himself off from the floor of the boat and sat up unsteadily with his arm to find himself to be the only inhabitant of the canoe when he had expected to be the first to fly out. The boat lacked any movement as he saw the front lightly hitting the dock with the current's sway but he heard no noise from his companions.

Crawling to the front on all threes (ugh, he hated missing an arm) with haste to find his friends as worry filled his mind, he saw where Vivian and Altaїr had landed and he choked back laughter of relief about the irony of it all. One was sprawled facedown all over the mud covered bank on their stomach as their petite feet kicked into the air, splashing water all over the place as it was the shallowest end of the riverbank and saw them spit out wet sand from their mouth. The other surfaced from the river to spit out mouthfuls of water as their limbs flailed wildly to the fear of sudden drowning but they soon realized that the water was only chest high in depth.

"Not again!" both of them complained as they landed in the similar fashion as their first river crossing and Malik chuckled with friendly relief to see them both safe and well. Well, physically at least. Vivian met Altaїr's sour gaze as she sat up to wipe her face free of mud with a disgusted frown and couldn't help but laugh at their predicament and the stroke of bad luck of their side. Altaїr was just about ready to buy camels to shift their entire trip to mandatory land travel and bar any kind of water travel (even crossing a shallow stream) as he frowned deeply to his ruined robes, splashing the water like a fussy child with his hands. If he had the power, he would've banished water off the entire world and placed it all within a giant lake reserved for drinking only.

Vivian didn't even bother wiping off anything this time since a simple wash would do and headed to the water to clean it all off quickly but stopped when she saw something move behind the assassin. Altaїr noticed the sudden halt as her eyes squinted to pinpoint something past his shoulder and the grim expression on her face told her he was about to face another of the river's creatures. Egypt really didn't seem to take a liking to him, did it? He sighed dejectedly to the sky overhead for what it had decided to bestow upon him today, like the dangerous river rafting wasn't enough to traumatize him, and called out with sarcastic challenge, "Let me guess: _another _crocodile?"

Both Malik and Vivian shook their heads from their safe spots. Well, that sounded like good news.

"Water snake?"

Another negative.

"Then what- _arrgh_, get the hell off!" Altaїr yelled with scornful surprise when a young hippopotamus decided to take a munch out of his right shoulder and the man punched it hard on its snout to drive it away. He wasn't about to become an animal's lunch either since mother nature failed to suck him into its watery depths and resisted from using his hidden blade on the creature. Oh, how he was tempted to be rid of anything standing in his way but he wasn't a reckless man anymore and the fat animal did look cute in a humorous way if it hadn't been trying to eat him.

The animal recoiled from the hit with a squeal as it managed to rip off part of a superficial layer of his garb and the assassin took off running toward the shore with his fastest pace. The young hippopotamus quickly regained its fury for being attacked in return and swam after him with vengeance filling its round black eyes. To Vivian, it was like a miniature shark attack waiting to happen (except with a cutesy smaller and angrier version that was purple) and ran towards the water to help with the courage of a lifeguard but not the slow-motion flashiness of a woman off Baywatch. Despite she found the little hippopotamus cute for trying to assert its dominance, she didn't want to see Altaїr mauled to death before her. . .again. Malik tried to grab its attention by repeatedly poking its side with the end of a paddle when it swam by him but it paid him no attention as it wanted Altaїr, its eyes locking onto the assassin's white backside with a target sign. Having the assassin wear his eye catching white robes didn't help matters either.

Vivian dove waist deep into the murky water despite the dangers within and hiked the skirt of her robes in one hand to help tread through the water, using the other to reach out to Altaїr so he could grasp it. The assassin's fingers sought out to meet hers as he leapt forward and she snatched his rough fingers like a venus flytrap the second they touched hers. Using the wet and mushy dirt under her feet as support, she yanked him away from the growling animal's reach (it wasn't as cute when it was trying to tear you into two) and towards shore as both ran to meet the land. Vivian didn't release his hand until they were safely on land among other people and even then, she checked the torn area of his robe to make sure he wasn't injured. Seeing the number of humans on the shore, the young hippo decided that the battle was lost as its aggression faded and with a snort that shot water out of its nostrils, it submerged back into the dark waters to disappear like a phantom. It wasn't the conclusion the animal wanted but it treasured its life farther than the stupid white creature that hurt him and hoped another of its kind ate the deformed river fish one day.

Panting as he caught his breath, he couldn't help but notice Cairo's residents had taken an interest to the scene he caused with the wild animal and he cursed under his breath for bringing attention to himself so quickly. Assassins concealed themselves flawlessly to carry out their tasks, never involving themselves in public fiascos. Was he losing his touch as he ventured into new lands? He considered himself extremely lucky that there were no Templars in view as he surveyed the crowd with his eagle vision in one sweep. Vivian decided to draw the curious stares towards herself to protect the hooded man and placed her hands on her muddy hips, shifting her weight to the side in the classic 'dramatic woman pose' to demand sharply with offense, "What? You've never seen someone punch a hippo? Move along, people."

People murmured under their breath about the foreigner and gasped to the woman's brash tongue, scuttling away to carry on with their business. Malik tied their canoe by rope to a wooden stump on the dock to begin their trip before things went awry and they were vanished from the city for something his companions did. He placed their travel packs on the wet dock as he stepped out of the boat and grinned at Vivian to jest, "You have a way with words, my friend."

"Thanks, but he really needs to stop drawing animal attention" she replied with an amused smile to the recent events involving animals and the master assassin as she wiped her face clear of mud with the back of her bare arm. Her robes were dirty beyond belief despite the care she'd given them since leaving Masyaf and Altaїr didn't fare any better as he held the appearance of a wet cat with deflated robes that hugged his body in a way that would've had women swooning. The back of her mind where fangirl-ism was sealed in an airtight vault thrashed as it demanded that the man be ravished. That thought mixed in with the recent animal incidents brought the perfect joke to her sarcastic mind as Vivian grinned to let her best joke of the day fly forth from her lips, "We need to shut off your animal magnetism. . . .eh? Get it?"

Again, she received cricket worthy silence from the assassins as the joke was flattened like a pesky fly against a window and she clenched her fists to complain with misery, "D'oh! _Nobody _understands my jokes nowadays!"

Altaїr ignored the banter aimed toward him since he wanted to know what was going on with the Templar Order within the city and not the atrocious thing Vivian called humor. He wasn't a humorous man, period. He grabbed his travel pack to hoist it over his right shoulder by its single leather strap and pointed a finger towards the entrance to guide his team back to Assassin business, "Let's go."

"Altaїr, you're soaking wet, you're going to stand out like a camel in a horse stable" she protested matter-of-factly as she waved her hands toward his wet robes and Malik bit back a laugh to her figurative example. If the man was trying to remain inconspicuous, this was a lousy way to go about it. He was practically declaring his profession to Templar spies with a visual bullhorn and wasn't about to let him go wandering the city with his testosterone driven tendencies to stab Templars. Pinching the back of his wet hood before he could escape them into the crowds gathered east of them, she ordered him like a mother hen, "They can wait while you air-dry a little."

Malik pointed to Altaїr's travel pack and informed her with a kind smile, "A change of clothes does wonders, young Vivian."

Her lips twisted into an 'o' of acknowledgement as Altaїr aimed a superior smirk over his visible features towards her flustered face and she glanced away to mutter flatly, "Right."

The man absolutely lacked the human ability to smile and wondered when it surfaced in future generations because Ezio was master with his gallery of expressions to charm women, negotiate with allies, humor friends, and taunt his enemies.

Altaїr moved his entourage forward with a simple flick of the wrist and the three wet amigos were off to enter the capital of Egypt, a city of one of Earth's oldest civilizations. Despite her muddy appearance (which drew a few curious eyes), Vivian was as giddy as a child on Christmas as her eyes took in every aspect of the entrance as limestone blocks created a small wall since the Nile deposits formed farmland that passed through the city border. Guards lined the area with weapons in case of danger and foreign intruders to make up for the lack of superior defense the wall provided since Cairo needed food for its residents as all settlements did by using the fertile riverbanks. Traders were lugging wooden crates filled with goods, weaved baskets of food, and other wares over their backs and in their arms as they made a living by trading from city to city drawing Vivian's interest to the hardships of the people in this era. In modern times, it was constantly seen in developing countries to keep the economy running and she wondered if she would wind up with a same trade if her life was indeed trapped there. Women were barred from holding professions, having an education, or owning land (although ancient Egypt did allow women ownership of property), and Vivian's independent streak couldn't handle such conditions as her mind was a sponge for knowledge after having parents that encouraged it.

Seeing wooden carts moving in between the interior of the city gave Vivian the insight of what the Assassins fought for as hardworking people toiled to survive in the world with their free will rather than losing what it meant to be human by being mindless drones to the pieces of Eden as the Templars sought to do. A hand to the shoulder snapped Vivian from her solemn rumination and she turned around swiftly to face Altaїr, the one who would fight endlessly to prevent such. He held no expression underneath his hood except for his classic stoic look but he unknowingly soothed her private worries with simple words, "I will buy you new robes from a humble merchant when we finish here."

Her hands twitched involuntarily and before the assassin could stop her, she embraced him in the middle of the docks and Malik slapped his forehead in disbelief to the sudden display of emotion. Five minutes into the city and scene number two occurred as the muddy woman hugged the soaked man as Vivian beamed with a sappy smile whereas Altaїr practically grew fangs of ferocity for it. Of course, when people stared at the public scene, Malik dismissed its scandalous outlook by lying they were siblings who'd just lost their parents and he was visiting from a mosque up north while she was a poor peasant. Altaїr, however, instinctively pushed her away like the plague itself for the close contact and for turning his robes a nasty brown color, "Stop that! Look at what you've done! This looks like animal crap, you idiotic wench!"

Vivian scowled to his brusque attitude and reminded herself no more joyous displays of affection because he was an eternal black hole that absorbed nor cared for any of it. Really, she was beginning to wonder what happened to the calm and collected assassin in the game because this one was a ticking time bomb. Then again, she was in a realm where absolutely nothing made sense to her. As always, Malik became the peacemaker as he drew the neutral border between the two warring factions and ushered them forward with a firm voice, "We are in Cairo and we will enter as _happy _guests, ready to witness this new city with its ancient wonders."

His words had an instantaneous magical effect on Vivian as she kicked out Altaїr from her mind and replaced him with Amunet, the kickass Egyptian assassin. Oh, how she yearned for a woman with her mindset that she could mingle with in this time frame.

"I can't believe this is Cairo" she grinned wildly with raw delight as she took in every sight, sound, and smell into memory to write it down later into her travel journal. She pointed to a small black goat that bleated by and cooed to the adorable creature with its little hooves but a crowd of visitors and traders pushed them further towards the entrance. She didn't care being jostled around like coins in a bag as she took in the full experience of Egyptian life while Malik began his own assessment of the city to update his personal knowledge but Altaїr remained impassive about his reaction as he analyzed everything that could be to his advantage. He wasn't here to sightsee, he needed to know every street and building that held vantage points and areas of interest to an assassin on the prowl.

Vivian grinned from ear-to-ear as the sound of merchants selling from their stands began to echo and she turned to Altaїr, who stayed in the middle to keep an eye on the two, and she rambled happily with waving hands full of excitement, "It's like 'The Mummy'. You be the tall, dark, and handsome Medjai warrior trying to save Egypt and I'll be the gung-ho American that kills mummies with a gun!. . .or the geeky British librarian turned adorable sidekick?"

Can't blame a girl for trying to score brownie points with a lethal assassin.

The murderous glare he shot her way told her he wasn't about to play the Ardeth Bay role to suit her movie fantasy and she scampered onwards with happy feet, disappearing into the crowd before he could call her back. Would that woman ever listen to his orders and not run into the unknown without his consent? Altaїr's lips twisted into a frown underneath his wet droopy hood and he cursed the woman's presence with an acid tone, "She is going to drive me insane."

Malik scoffed to his friend's opinion on the pleasant woman as she kept life interesting without the danger their profession brought and told him wryly, "You forget that you're _already _insane. Who else would punch a hippopotamus in the face?"

"It was self-defense!" Altaїr justified sharply toward the malicious creature since he never gave permission to being anybody's lunch meal and let his rage simmer as he kept it caged for the Templars wandering the city. Once he found a decent and private place to change clothes (probably on an empty rooftop somewhere), the hunt was on.

* * *

**A/N**: I was replaying AC II last week and now Ezio's family theme song is stuck in my head, it's such a touching piece while also fitting the tone I want to end my story with. Poor Altaїr just doesn't seem to get a break from angry animals, if only he could charm them like Ezio does with everything in his sight. Poor Vivian will never get a figurative high five from Altaїr but she tries her best. And Malik, well, he has to put up with them for more than a year. The next chapter will bring the start of their investigation in Cairo as Vivian puts her skills to the test, Altaїr believes prowling is a form of apology, and Malik bonds with Vivian as the two are on route to BFF haven.

Thanks for the new alerts as it pleases me to know there's other people that read the story worldwide and to my last reviewers:

_flyingcrispi_: Thanks for loving the chapter titles, I try my best to find a hilarious title that fits the plot of each and seeing Altaїr use one is funny in itself since Ezio was allowed any weapon he found (except every day objects since my brother once asked me if I could grab a civilian's lantern and beat a guard with it). As for Maria, we need her to stick around because Altaїr needs descendants and I have my own ending for her because the one Ubisoft made sucks in my view along with Malik's. Maria and Darim will bar Vivian from Altaїr because she wants to keep his path linear than zigzag it all over the place but Altaїr's never the type to listen.

_IpiRayan_: I hate fritzy computer issues, especially when I have to update and do research for my stories.

_Bearybeary_: Thanks for loving the hilarity!

_CheLeapofFaith_: I don't mind the spazzing, I'm the same with stories I love on this site. I hope you loved this chapter and your avatar ID made me laugh.

_Kookie-douwh_: I think Malik would be mortified to see Vivian spanked with a switch rather than the single paddle hit but she'd probably get revenge by having him unknowingly sit on an fire ant hill. Maria will be popping up at Masyaf eventually with a bun in the oven since she can no longer run around like that but knowing her determined nature, she'll don a male look again to play assassin instead of templar. I've outlined the entire story and rough drafted chapters already to keep on top (I like the mozambique chapter out of all as they settle down as civilians to wait out cyclone season to madagascar) as I work on a short sequel to tie it all up but with their adventures, it will probably take the readers a long time to get there.

_Nothing new in this world_: Thank you for the appreciative review, I'm trying to make Vivian as normal but hilarious as possible. She's actually my first character to ever sing things and it's her way of dealing with the crazy life she's fallen into rather than crying and moaning about it; it's a shame she can't carry a decent note though. Altaїr is the most serious assassin out of the three (poor Desmond just wanted a motorcycle) and although he's a deadly warrior, he's still human like the rest of us despite how much he tries to avoid it. It's fun picking at the pieces as we see his attitude (both external and internal) and his inability to fit in with normal everyday people is icing on the cake as he learns from Vivian and Malik who work the crowds with their common touch.

_Jake the Dog_: Nice, thanks for the info, I named her Vivian because I'd always liked that name and it fit with her cultural background. The romance portion springs forth about a year and few months since Altaїr's like a clam with his feelings and Vivian doesn't want to ruin the time-space continuum either so it's funny when the time arrives.

* * *

**Next time**:

"Remember, Altaїr, you will hold power that nobody's held in centuries and in a great amount that no human should if you succeed with this journey" Vivian advised carefully as her tone shifted to convey seriousness because nobody knew what crazy things the pieces of Eden could do. Those beings had been powerful and if humans were made to look like them without any of their abilities, it gave humankind the outlook of a child holding a gun. It echoed the myth of Pandora's box and Vivian tried her best to advice him as she wagged a motherly finger (despite he beat her age by five years- almost six), "As my Uncle Ben once said, 'with great power, comes great responsibility'. Heed it, Grand Master."

The assassin nodded silently despite he gave no verbal promise and left the two on the dock as he hopped into the boat to leave. He wanted to be across the Nile before nightfall to set up camp inland as the journey to Giza would begin the next morning. Malik turned to the frowning woman just as she'd been ready to flick off Altaїr behind his back and complimented, "Your uncle is a wise man for saying that."

Her frown immediately turned upside down as a goofy grin spread over her dry lips and Vivian admitted casually, "Oh, _I _don't have an Uncle Ben. He's just a fictional character from an illustrated paper novel called 'Spiderman' that exists in my realm. I just thought the quote was fitting."

Malik's face twisted into sheer disbelief to her crafty mind as Vivian hopped into the boat while innocently humming Spiderman's theme.


	10. The One Woman Musical Catastrophe

**The One Woman Musical Catastrophe  
**

* * *

Malik had wasted no time blending into the crowds leading into the heart of the city and Vivian contemplated on writing Ubisoft a letter to include him in future games because he was the assassin version of James Bond as he captivated residents to divulge secrets. She'd already watched him chat with three people for information as he played the new 'traveler/possible homeowner' in need of directions perfectly with mannerisms that most of the elite failed to have while Altaїr lacked nabbing even one since a single look to the sword at his side sent civilians scrambling to blend back into the crowd. With his injury from Solomon's temple, Malik also played the sympathetic card to the max for all it was worth as his modern everyday features lacked to intimidate others and his smooth voice charmed the pants off most. Plus, the man was damn handsome in real life (Vivian blamed the manly stubble) and she knew he'd make the ladies feel lucky with his looks and temperament.

Vivian had wanted to explore the variety of shops set up within the bazaar district where Malik had gone but Altaїr headed for the heart of the city where administration dominated the area. If his enemies were seeking information, this is where they would find it first before spreading out towards the seedier and shady parts of Cairo. The tall limestone buildings were more prominent there than in any other location of the city since the elite roamed the area and Vivian observed the handcrafted art decorating the buildings as the old city of the pharaohs melted in with the current architecture. Breathing in the new (well, old if she wanted to be figurative) air brought her a coughing fit as loose dirt flowed freely from street, the city's lack of a decent sewage system, and the heavy body odor lingering in the humidity, but it gave her a sense of living as her green eyes sparkled to the bustling city. To Altaїr, it smelled like any other city and he didn't care for historical architecture or anthropological dynamics as his eyes studied the buildings for viewpoints and possible assassination areas; to him, the city was his hunting ground.

Regardless of the high-class area, crowds were not lacking as fancier shops were gathered there to sell things to residents, scholars, officials, and passing guards. It was easy to pinpoint the guards as they were the only ones carrying weapons and the master assassin swept the area with his eagle vision to make sure he knew who was hostile and whom were the innocent. Altaїr glanced at Vivian as she was entranced by their surroundings (mentally sighing that she was a scholar in his era) and nudged her forward with his elbow to begin their search. She uttered a small 'oh' of surprise as her petite feet leapt forward as she was broken out of her thoughts and he questioned dully, "Are you ready to go?"

"Give me a second" she told him as she held her index finger in the air and scampered between the two small buildings, obscuring herself in the shadows as she snuck behind a large bale of hay to change into her chosen persona. Altaїr simply stared with mild attention as she ruffled her damp hair, combing her fingers through her wavy locks to give an unkempt appearance and grabbed a bit of hay from a nearby crate to tangle it within her black hair. The drying mud caking her damp robes and patches of her head gave her a nice hobo touch as she opened her arms wide to declare with an impish smile, "Ta-da!"

He hushed her since attention isn't what they sought but tried not to laugh at the same time to her disheveled appearance. Honestly, she looked like an overgrown ragamuffin as she grabbed a few handfuls of dirt from the ground to pat onto her skirt for a final touch. The right corner of his lips lifted into a small smirk as she stood before him, looking like nothing as she had hours ago, and even he had to admit, "I think you're a natural."

"I need an instrument with cymbals to pull off what I need to do to keep all Templars away since the white definitely contrasts here" she contemplated with a pout as she held her chin in thought and he left her in his dust before she could utter a protesting 'hey'.

_Did he just leave me? We didn't even get to have our portraits painted!_, she thought in disbelief for being ditched just after being handed the first compliment since being brought on his adventure. Eh, it was hard trying to understand the man's mind. An itch pricked at her skin and Vivian frowned distastefully, using her right hand to scratch her butt without reserve since the shadows hid her well and slumped her shoulders with content, _Man, that's been killing me since entering this part of the city. Maybe it's a good thing he left before I really had to scratch myself in front of him. Okay, back to business._

Feeling abandoned by the assassin, she rejoined the dusty streets riddled with people to search for his trademark white hood but found squat. Great, he tells her to stick to him like an insect on a water buffalo and what does he do? He ditches her in the middle of a crowded place where she has absolutely no idea on how to find him. Vivian shook her head with disapproval to the man's command tactics but couldn't blame him, he was new to group dynamics after working solo since his youth. Instead, she decided to stay where she was because his instincts as a tracker would lure him to her location so why not make it easier on both? Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long.

A blur of white shot into view and before her brain could comprehend it, Altaїr had returned in the blink of an eye and she felt something drop into her hand. Her fingers caught it immediately before it fell to the ground and she looked down to find a tambourine-like instrument between her hands. Her brow furrowed as she studied the foreign instrument (she wasn't a music major) as brown leather covered both sides of the wooden circles while cymbals were fitted at the sides to chime their sweet tune. Her fingers traced over the smooth leather to feel the new object and before she could ask him about it, Altaїr informed with a low mumble, "It's a riq."

Her green eyes met his honey tone as she was caught off guard that he'd actually searched for her item and she asked curiously, "Where'd you-"

"Don't ask."

_Well, I guess I just crossed stealing off my list by being an accomplice_, she thought dryly to the crazy things she would involve herself in and followed along as he began to scout the area. He beckoned for her to follow with a simple flick of his wrist and she complied immediately, keeping a safe distance between them to ward away the idea they were together in company.

She watched Altaїr keep close to individuals wearing similar color schemes since scholars were lacking in the area and almost lost him more than once as he blended in seamlessly into the crowds, mimicking his movements to learn something about hiding. If she was stuck in dangerous times, she needed to gain skills to survive and novices apparently learned that skill so she might as well learn from the best (except Assassin skills because no human of modern times was ready for that because even Desmond was reluctant and he had their blood flowing in his veins). She didn't see why he needed her with his skills but her thoughts were disrupted when he slid next to a crowd buying fresh vegetables from a merchant and his right hand quickly pointed forward in warning.

Vivian caught sight of three Templars up the road as their armor glinted against the bright sunlight, almost blinding her sensitive retinas with their evil shine. Ugh, she just found another reason to hate them. She wondered why Saladin's people didn't attack them directly as the Crusades were still ongoing but she noticed that their outfits had changed drastically from those who were stationed in Syria. They no longer bore the red cross and white robes associated with Richard's men, choosing to keep the same metal armor but the white robes had changed to a slate gray to signify neutrality and no insignia was visible on their wardrobe. Vivian had no idea if the Egyptian people knew what a Templar looked like since telephone calls and television broadcasts were nonexistent but if the Egyptians were behaving normally, the Templars malicious intentions and their presence went undetected.

Feigning a cough to catch his attention, she gave a quick point of her index finger with the fist she'd placed over her mouth to agree with his assumption and kept moving. Altaїr rejoined the crowd a second later and she followed at a close but inconspicuous pace; it wasn't easy when people were constantly pushing into you and obscuring your target though. Vivian's chance to prove herself occurred when a peasant (did _any _society lack them?) dressed in brown linen bounded up to Altaїr and she could already hear the 'spare some coin?' ready to burst from their lips. Oh no, this would _not _happen on her 'impress Altaїr time'! Her digital assassin had suffered greatly in pickpocket/interrogation missions where she'd accidentally stabbed one and alerted the bothersome guards.

Altaїr's hooded head began to turn with guarded vigilance as he spotted the raggedy woman and although he wanted to help the civilian people his brotherhood was meant to protect, there were priorities that he had to take care of first. Vivian took it upon her shoulders to remedy this sudden problem as she slipped between them to block him from the peasant and her hands stuck out in the classic beggar stance as she piped up, "Spare some coin?"

The assassin moved forward as the obstacle was avoided, merging further into the moving crowd as Vivian stared at the woman with hopeful puppy eyes (she prayed it didn't work because she'd feel like crap on a street at that point). The poor woman blinked with confusion as she was faced with another peasant in the same situation and asked uncertainly, "Don't _you _have coin to spare?"

"I need coin too! Look at me, I'm sleeping on hay and I fell in mud today- not to mention I almost drowned in the Nile" Vivian dramatized woefully as she hoped her craziness drove the woman away and scratched her scalp roughly to give off the impression of having lice, which she emphasized by staring at her nails and cleaning them. Giving the bewildered woman a manic grin, she laughed wildly with merriment, "Boy, my head sure is itchy!"

Halting instantly to her own words, Vivian's face shifted into confusion as her eyes squinted and she asked herself loudly, "What's that you say, Mabel?"

Vivian looked over her left shoulder to speak to a fake imaginary friend as the 'insane woman' persona was born within seconds in her witty mind and she declared crazily with a stern face aimed at the ground, "Did I feed the cat? No, I keep telling you I was hungry and Betty was meowing to eat so I had to eat _her_!"

At this point, the peasant was too frightened of the 'deranged' woman and scampered off to find safety while asking others for help. Vivian stood in her spot for a moment as she let the façade break away, struck with guilt for scaring away an innocent person that only wanted help but felt better at knowing she looked like crap to match her current mood. She truly wished there was a way to help the underprivileged since they were real people, no longer repetitive video game NPC's with annoying phrases, and turned away to keep following Altaїr. Maybe she could sell her riq and give away the money later to the peasants wandering the city or have Altaїr steal a loaf of bread from a fancy seller for distribution.

When the next person came up to the assassin, Vivian intercepted by jumping in front of a pudgy fabrics merchant to exclaim happily with a big goofy grin, "How 'bout I sing a song for free robe fabric?"

"Oh- Oooh- _Ohhhh_" Vivian struggled on finding the right note in her voice (she'd be looking for a while) as she smacked her left hand on the top of the riq to use it as a tambourine, moving her lips quickly as she tried to force the unwilling note out of her vocal chords. Hmm, that assassin really was as fast as lightning if he found a riq that was in new condition since it made up marvelously for her lack of singing. She gave up quickly when she couldn't conjure a decent note and sang her tune with a cracked voice,

"_I've been working near the Nile, all the live long day  
I've been working near the Nile, just to pass the time away-"_

"Go away, mad woman!," the merchant shooed her aside with a sharp voice just as Altaїr slipped out from the crowds with his catlike grace. He'd finally found a decent building to begin his climb and he used nearby wooden crates to jump onto the side of the small building as the wooden ledges that decorated would help him find his way up towards the roof. Being a man clad in bone white robes, he could be found easily if one glanced in his direction and hoped Vivian was keeping any nosy guards or civilians away from his vicinity.

"I'm not mad, I'm a fashion tragedy in need of clothes!" she declared indignantly as she grabbed the skirt of her robes to show the poor condition it was in and began a new cheerful song, "Old Malik had a farm, and on that farm he had a duck, the yellowiest duck you've seen -"

A kick aimed in her direction made her scramble for cover and she hid her giddy grin as she spotted Altaїr climbing the building as he used the conveniently placed architectural décor (really, assassins had just about anything needed for a climb). She didn't linger her gaze and kept moving to the center of the path to make sure nobody noticed the leaping acrobatic man as he reached the roof to begin his run to the next. Vivian would hate this part the most as she would need to keep up and you know a girl from the modern era or any era _cannot _keep up with the crazy free running assassin. She really wished she'd taken some kind of running sport because running a few miles a day wouldn't cut it if she had to maintain his speed; she'd probably suffer a heart attack by then! Vivian ran through the crowd, using open pockets to slip through to avoid causing a commotion but then she realized. . .why not? That's what she was there for!

She used her riq to draw the crowd's attention as the cymbals chimed merrily with her slaps and the movement of her run. She called out to the crowds that she was a traveling bard that would sing to honor her visiting city since she was piss poor but most paid her no attention as they moved elsewhere. Inwardly, she smiled as she kept people away from the areas Altaїr traveled but the rooftops kept him well hidden throughout his run but climbing onto the citadel would require more stealth and finesse as two thin towers stood between him and the Citadel.

Vivian managed to sing through three songs before reaching the Citadel and noticed the Templars wandering the area, groaning to having them in the worst place possible but it was the obvious choice for snooping around. They were definitely sniffing out for information as they wandered among the people but were they aware of how close they were to the POE or maybe they were trying to play decoy as their people moved closer? Ugh, she hated playing Templar guessing games. The main question was, how to efficiently distract or lure them away from the Citadel?

From above, Altaїr could see the dirty woman (she wasn't very hard to spot) and used a low pigeon call to grab her attention but received no recognition as she stayed in place.

_Perfect, just perfect_, he thought irritably since birds were rather musical today and on a lazy day, he would enjoy their cheerful chirps but not now. Picking up a small pebble from the brown roof tiling, he locked onto Vivian's immobile form as she was ready to start another song that would repel crowds and threw the rock with pinpoint precision. As an assassin, his targeting rarely failed no matter what he was using as a weapon and let a small smirk form on his lips when he saw it strike her lower back (low enough not to be seen but a weak area to sense a sudden hit). The woman flinched in surprise and he snorted when he saw her looking around the place, rubbing her backside with a frown and using the same birdcall again, she _finally _took notice of him.

_If I was an eagle, that clueless little lamb would've been picked off and headed for my nest, _he thought with dry amusement as she caught the white of his robes as he pointed towards the towers he'd have to climb since he'd need her help for this one. It proved easier to do with his skills since the Citadel's massive wall had yet to be built around the fortress as it was during her time but that didn't make it any less dangerous with guards and Templars roaming about. Also, the towers would've served a better purpose if they held open areas that could've hidden him but everybody could walk around them and see him climbing like a maniac. _The smaller walls of the fortress should help to conceal since civilians are barred from entering and I can handle myself from thereon._

Vivian gave him a thumbs up (it took a while for the concept to stick when she explained it one night) so he could start his wicked Spiderman climbing and cloistered herself in the clearing in front of the large Citadel that served as a palace for the ruling Saladin. Their enemies were gathered at the side of the main staircase leading up the hill towards the palace and her close spot near them would help as she eyed them from across the open area. She kept her eyes pinned on the Templars as she threw a cloth bag on the ground for profit (it wouldn't hurt to try and nab some coin since their adventure wasn't exactly funded by others) and began her song while performing a small entertaining jig,

"_I was playing in my room late one night  
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight  
For my AC character from his spot began to rise  
And suddenly to my surprise_

_He did the mash_  
_He did the AC mash_  
_The AC mash_  
_It was a castle smash_  
_He did the mash_  
_It caught on in a flash_  
_He did the mash_  
_He did the AC mash_

_From my new bedroom in the castle east_  
_To the hall where the Masters feast_  
_To the trainers that play in the armories_  
_The scholars all came from their humble dormitories_  
_To get a taste of my crazy gaming anthologies!_

_They did the mash  
They did the AC mash-"_

Her 'Monster Mash' parody song died on her lips when she saw the Templars weren't paying the slightest of attention as they continued to scout around them. Vivian even contemplated on lighting her outer robes on fire to cause a scandal since Altaїr had reacted the same over taking off one layer but was pretty sure she'd be jailed on the spot for that. Thanking the passing bystanders that stayed to stare at her eccentric song, she grabbed her cloth of tips and was pleasantly surprised to find that it held two dirham coins and a black button. Hmm, buttons did come in handy for lost ones. She could see her assassin pal was scaling the first tower and knew she had to keep everyone's attention on her before somebody decided that Syrian Spiderman was worth a watch (his outfit already beat Parker's in her opinion).

Scampering over to the new shaded spot next to the staircase where their enemies had now moved, she struck the taut skin of her riq and began a new song with a loud voice,

"_Here's the story of a quirky lady. . .me!  
Who was bringing up two very rowdy sisters.  
All of them had hair of onyx, like their mother,  
The youngest one with curls. . .or waves, one or the other. . ._

_Here's the story, of a man named Altaїr ,  
Who was busy with three lethal boys of his own,  
One from Venice, the other US, and from Jerusalem  
They were four AC men, living all together,  
Yet they were all alone._

_Till one day when the lady met this fellow  
And they knew it was much more than a hunch,  
That this group would somehow form a family.  
That's the way we all became the AC Bunch.  
The AC Bunch  
That's the way we all became the AC Bunch.  
The AC Bunch!"_

This drew lukewarm attention since she failed to add a dance into the mix but they seemed more focused on their evil 'take over the world' plotting rather than the petite woman singing her heart out. Great, not even the Brady bunch attracted people anymore! Noticing that the Templars would see Altaїr in mid climb along the side of the Citadel as he was literally across from her on the building, she slapped her hand against the riq to jingle the cymbals as she shook the tambourine to nab their attention.

"_Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh  
Walk like an Egyptian!"_

Seeing that her instrument wasn't gaining their full attention, her mind sent her neurons to their battle stations as one Templar lingered their gaze in the area Altaїr was located at. She couldn't let his presence be discovered by the evil men since seeing him get skewered on the side of the fortress by multiple arrows would ruin the future of the brotherhood and her reliability as a sidekick. Vivian threw herself to the wolves by jumping directly in front of the Templars and began to shout her lungs out with another song to make sure it echoed inside their bucket helmets,

"_Ohhhh, I'm the queen, queen, queen of the gypsies  
I buy them out in my little caravan  
I'm the best known gypsy throughout the land  
I'm the queen, queen, queen, of the gypsies!"_

One of the men tried to push her aside rudely from the shoulder as he snapped harshly, "Out of the way, peasant!"

She smacked the tambourine across the man's metal covered head, her strike managing to surprise the man and she declared boldly with a stern face, "How dare you insult the queen of the gypsies?"

A few slanders later that officially named her the 'crazy wench of Cairo' and another bonk to the head to all of the Templars gathered there, Vivian was manhandled out of the high end of town as she screeched about their atrocious behavior. It took the force of three Templars to carry her out (two holding her arms and the other her feet) as she wriggled with the tenacity of an enraged eel and yelled to kingdom come, "Unhand me, bucket head! Respect your queen or I'll- oomph!"

She was flung outside the elite part of the city and landed right on her tailbone, her riq bonking her on top of the head as one of the men threw it at her in afterthought. Yelping at the sharp hit that would leave a painful bump, she counted herself lucky that they hadn't killed her in a dark corner somewhere but taunted them to alleviate her physical pain. They paid her no more attention as they disappeared back inside the area but she managed a maniacal cackle as she rubbed her hands together with evil glee to tell herself, "The joke's on you, jackasses!"

As people passed by the fallen woman, Vivian tucked in her legs to prevent being trampled in her shabby form and innocently smiled to greet residents whom were staring at her with awkward gazes and she mimicked Kenobi's smooth accented voice, "Hello there."

With her diversion a success, nobody would pay Altaїr any attention as the assassin was now flawlessly blended among the rooftop of the fortress and had curiously watched the commotion from a safe spot on the spherical roof. Honestly, the woman was not one to forsake boldness to achieve her goals and he found the idea of using her as a scapegoat for just about anything rather interesting.

* * *

Altaїr watched the city of Cairo with the intensely watchful gaze of an eagle as he sat atop the Citadel, the burning sun beating down on his back but his white clothing would thankfully reflect some of that light. The downside was the high humidity as Egypt was a lush jungle environment along the Nile's riverbank as palm trees decorated most of the streets and he ran his forearm over his sweaty forehead since dampening his hands would be dangerous for his climb down later on. So far, he'd written down in his mental notes that the Templars had shifted from their original disguises (at least the ones he'd seen in the city) and had noticed a few camouflaged themselves as followers of Saladin seeing as the Piece of Eden was somewhere in Giza.

Regardless of their disguises, Altaїr's eagle vision would cast away their deceptive shrouds to see the truth. How close were the Templars to finding the piece? It made him wonder if there was a new Grandmaster at work and briefly pondered on the whereabouts of Maria, he'd given her a token for acceptance into Masyaf if she ever had need of it. Nonetheless, her information as an ex-Templar and the inner workings of the organization would've come in handy at the moment.

_I have to make due with Vivian, who will kick me when interrogated and is bolder than anyone I've worked with_, he contemplated since her loud songs had carried over to where he'd been climbing but she'd left quite a while ago to venture elsewhere (he prayed she wouldn't be chased out of the city with her unrestrained ways). Her methods were strange for a foreigner but effective as he managed to breach the Citadel without incident from the city's security. _On the bright side, she hasn't attempted to kill me once like Maria used to._

Cairo was no different than Damascus, a bustling city full of traders and residents trying to make a living despite the Crusades occurring up north but war would not brew in the area anytime soon. The architecture of the rooftops didn't vary greatly in comparison to Syrian rooftops but he knew that would soon change as they ventured south where villages, ports, and small settlements dominated the undeveloped areas.

His eagle vision allowed him to distinguish the innocent from the hostile as pickpockets and Templars lit up his sight. The pickpockets would be taught a lesson in karma when he stole the money in return to split it between his team and the poor while the Templars. . .well, we all knew what would happen to them. He'd been studying their movements throughout the area and had already scoped the perfect vantage points to make his assassinations from. Since using the Apple, he'd been trying to find ways to improve his skills as Vivian told him he would develop many and although he wasn't trying to force fate to hand him a few before time deemed it right, he _really _wanted to create something!

He'd begun to take notice of areas where assassinations could be carried out flawlessly without notice since killing within a crowd or jumping off a ledge tended to attract anybody nearby. The haystacks and piles of crates were perfect areas to explore for a quick assassination but he would dwell on those thoughts at camp as he watched his enemies closely from his perch high above the city (Vivian hadn't kidded when she stated it was a high point). A bird sound to his left distracted him from his search and he turned with mild interest, expecting to find a small bird or a falcon but his eyes widened to seeing a gray pigeon cooing at him with interest.

Birds were the symbol of the Assassin's Order, primarily eagles, but there was a certain kind Altaїr just didn't get along with. The innocent ledge-dwelling feral pigeon was that unfortunate bird as the assassin was repelled from the small bird despite its innocent orange eyes blinking sweetly at him. The Assassin's Order used the pigeons to send messages to coops but Altaїr had never used one in his entire lifetime after being heckled by a hungry flock as a child when he'd been eating his meal outside in Masyaf's courtyard. Since that fateful day fifteen years ago, he refused to touch one and used someone else to send his messages or used other varieties of birds for communication.

The assassin stepped back slowly with caution, his honey colored eyes narrowing suspiciously at innocent bird as it pecked at the stone to find sustenance and Altaїr remembered that gray beak pulling at his clothes for food years ago. He had no qualms with its other cousins in the columbidae family but that particular pigeon would always unsettle him. He frowned underneath his hood because he was not looking for more animal encounters that day (or for the rest of his life) and aimed two of his fingers at the bird, turning them around the next second to point to his own two eyes, and warned quietly, "I'm _watching _you."

A little movement to the left from its pink bird legs as it looked elsewhere to eat had Altaїr searching for a new spot to convey his investigation. He would never live the embarrassment down if somebody discovered his unnatural fear of pigeons.

* * *

The sun hung low over Cairo as the afternoon came to an end quicker than the group anticipated and Altaїr remained within the city on his solo search as the other two companions settled at the edge of the riverbank where the docks ended to await their friend as they tried to find a few moments of peace before undertaking the next trip across the Nile that would lead them to camp for the night as the day had exhausted them. In the modern days, Vivian woke early to prepare for classes with every technological convenience available and returned home by noon to study and take care of any chores before having the entire day free. In her new life, she was awake before dawn trying to build a fire and find a decent place to bathe before engaging in an entire day of nonstop movement that would leave her exhausted when it came time for dinner- and by that time, the sun had barely finished setting!

_If I ever return home, I will publish a book regarding daily life in the 1190s for history students_, she thought hopefully as home always remained in her mind and wondered if time flowed in the same correlation as it did in AC land. If so, her family would be worried sick after being gone for more than three weeks and hoped they weren't searching the city in vain for her. Most of all, she didn't want her sisters claiming dibs on her stuff since she wanted to burn the Altaїr cutout herself for getting her into the whole mess she was in.

"So, what did you find out?" Vivian asked curiously as she finished washing her hair in a shallow end of the riverbank, squeezing her wavy locks free of excess water, and tied it into a wet bun on the top of her head with a leather tie.

The water dripping down her hot skin felt wonderful at that particular hour as breezy cool wind flowed through the land and pocketed her translucently yellow soap made of fat and salt. She couldn't complain about not having aromatic fancy soap because just having anything that lathered made her very happy and hadn't cared for the odd looks from passerby's because she was homeless at this point in her life. Everything she'd owned was nonexistent and her lack of money or a job itself would not be earning her a living so in all aspects, that's what she was. . .but she preferred using 'wandering adventurer' better.

Malik sat on the dry riverbank with a casual air about him as he observed the Nile, taking a small puff of his brown midwakh pipe before exhaling a thin trail of smoke with a smile, "Only small numbers have been seen but with their secrecy, I wouldn't be surprised if they relayed the information to an awaiting group gathered elsewhere around the Nile. They're getting close which makes me wonder how they're arriving to these locations faster than we are."

_Maybe they harnessed the swimming power of river turtles?_, she wanted to joke but decided not to in case Malik choked on his smoking pipe and irritated his vocal chords.

"It's a shame Altaїr's shiny apple can't let him fly to a city by using his scowling power as fuel" she mused with an impish grin to the idea of seeing him fly alongside an airplane like Superman and wondered if there was such a piece so she could begin sewing him a flamboyant white cape. Her pupils already had a little Altaїr caricature flying in the classic pose but snapped herself out of it since the real assassin tended to read her mind with a simple glare and wasn't about to risk a scolding until she had a good comeback.

Malik chuckled softly to her words as he exhaled through his lips with the fancy allure of movie stars from Hollywood's golden era (without the raspy cough in later years) and Vivian's curiosity itched as she piped up perkily, "Can I try that? You make it look so sophisticated and easy."

His left eyebrow raised to her request and she frowned to mutter flatly with slumped shoulders, "Let me guess, women don't smoke here either?"

He nodded with an amused smile since it appeared tacky for the fairer sex to do so but offered sympathetically, "Except at camp. You are welcome to try there, my friend."

"Sweet!" she cheered happily and couldn't wait to play off the fanciness of the pipe that seemed to transcend time and cultures. Frankly, she was a strict nonsmoker but one little puff couldn't hurt (she'd exhale it instantly rather than let it breeze past her tongue) and knowing her pure lungs, she'd probably hack everything in Altaїr's face. That in itself gave her _further _incentive to try it just to see his face. The thought of the grumpy assassin poked her mind with curiosity to where he could be and whether he was safe but she quickly reminded herself that this was _Altaїr_- of course he was.

Keeping a cautious eye behind them as people wandered the docks with their baskets of belongings or bought goods, she asked softly, "So how are we reaching Giza?"

He pointed the end of his pipe towards the calm river and explained easily as he watched the gentle currents, "We use the compass and the sun to guide us across to the west. There is no possible way to reach it at this hour, however, seeing as sunset will approach soon and we have had a very long journey from Bubastis. We were very lucky to transverse the river for so many miles and I am quite ready to fall asleep."

"You and me both, my arms ache terribly from rowing like crazy" she agreed with a tired yawn, covering her mouth to mind her manners and wiping a watery eye with a clean hand. The entire day had been grueling with the hot sun sizzling their backs, the spur-of-the-moment river rafting, and singing her lungs out told her it was time to snooze. Vivian was more than ready to leave for the other side if it meant extra sleeping hours and sighed sullenly as she massaged her shoulders, knowing they'd be sore tomorrow after fighting that fierce river current and sighed softly, "I don't want to have that particular adventure again. Anything else we can impress Altaїr with?"

"I bartered my way to some useful medical supplies" he informed her since items like sterilized cloth and cotton, alcohol, salves, and common remedies were essential in their journey to prevent illness on the road. Vivian was partly thankful while the logical side was wary to the ancient medicine but it was better to have something on hand rather than nothing when there was no doctor in their vicinity. Malik caught the worried look on her face as she'd explained a few aspects of medicine from her time and their cultural exchange enlightened them both for the better with each campsite chat. She slipped out of her slippers to dip her toes in the cold water of the shore to soothe her parched skin and he grinned to jest, "I will bring you next time for your input, that is if Altaїr can spare his newest public saboteur."

"You embellish my first job too much, I'm simply the woman he tolerates as I give him information and make his job in life easier" she snorted sardonically to the way he behaved most of the time but remained thankful that he decided to ditch his old idea of using a rope around her waist because she'd no intention of imitating a dog and setting womankind back another century. She entertained her weary mind by wiggling her toes in the water and poked fun at herself by telling her friend with a witty smile, "I'm like a scab, he doesn't pick at me all the time because he knows I'm protecting his body from harmful microorganisms but eventually, he will. When that happens, we restart the process all over again."

Malik laughed at the image of a Vivian-shaped scab on his friend's forearm that constantly squeaked in argument and returned her playful banter with a joke of his own, "I would've said a wife. A man protects and defends but the woman is the mastermind, always two steps ahead. You two make a decent team when you're not arguing."

She visibly squirmed at that since she blamed the allure of that cranky assassin on that hood of mystery or maybe the smooth voice that ironically matched his digital double but held the subtlest hints of an accent. The man was certainly attractive to her in the physical aspect but the minute he ran his mouth, she was curled into a defensive ball and holding a fork to jab him with to keep him at bay. Vivian didn't see how an independent woman like Maria fell for that but maybe she liked the gruff 'in your face' types.

Vivian waved her hands in the air in an attempt to shoo away the mental images Malik tried to scar her mind with and protested shrilly, "By Odin's beard, no!. . .That's more him and Maria. Nonetheless, a wise thought on the latter words."

The dai pointed his pipe at her with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes and he stated nonchalantly, "I am known for my ability to perceive things that aren't visible to the naked eye-"

"Heh, you said naked" she giggled as she was struck with that childish lure of immaturity since people, especially women, lacked using vulgar language (which was nothing in comparison to modern times where even children surprised you) in that era. Unless they were of military professions, however, which pretty much warranted you the unlimited right to curse when pierced by an arrow or any other weapon. Sitting down next to him to watch the calm river, she dared anybody that wandered nearby to say anything about sitting next to a man while unmarried and asked him with a smile, "Say, have I ever taught you the timeless game of Tick-Tack-Toe?"

"It's not like that Truth or Dare game again, is it?" Malik asked with a frown about the old game Vivian taught them one night after dinner as they camped at the Gaza strip and Altaїr had refused to choose truth. He'd almost broken into a long speech about honor and truth about handing over secret information to a nobody as Vivian was obligated to sit there and agree to it. The dai found humor in daring his friend to slap himself silly with both hands but Altaїr got revenge by making him perform a handstand on his only hand.

"No, the fun withered when Altaїr refused to choose truth and he almost broke his neck performing a headstand" Vivian chuckled softly with remembrance to that night as the man refused to vow an oath to a game and divulge important information but forced her to choose anything but truth as he wanted to perform his own interrogation. Honestly, she sometimes wondered if the assassin knew the meaning of fun but with his harsh upbringing, she doubted it. Maybe she could find a way to lighten his temperament as she proved herself?

Running to an area of the shore that had washed up twigs of various sizes, she grabbed two and turned around to declare to her friend with an excited grin, "En guard, for we play the battle of Tic-Tac-Toe!"

* * *

**A/N**: Altaїr really does have that animal magnetism, doesn't he? And poor Vivian, she tries her best to fit into her new world and be the best sidekick (besides Malik) but she'll never carry a tune. The chapter turned up longer than I wanted (20+pages) so we'll be wrapping up Cairo in the next chapter, I promise, as Altaїr climbs buildings like a madman to help Vivian and Malik plays referee to their dinnertime squabbles.

A very appreciative thank you to everyone who put this story on their alerts/favs and to my last reviewers as your words keep me writing this tale:

_Flyingcrispi_: I want them to stop at the Valley of the Kings as they travel south and Medjai were known to exist in the area as they protected the tombs- I still have some research to do. By then, Altaїr and Vivian will be on friendly terms but her knack for getting them into trouble will undoubtedly bring him along. In ancient times, the world was modest on clothing so it's hilarious to see him freak out over bare legs.

_Water-Sirene_: Thanks for loving the story. If I could draw anything decently on a tablet, I would, but I lack one so we're all left to our imaginations. While Malik will have animals behaving peacefully with him like Snow White, Altaїr will be the opposite as they target him as enemy number one. He'll basically be fighting his way through Templars and animals to survive as his companions munch on snacks.

_Jake The Dog_: I'm glad you love the humor so much, I always reread it constantly to make sure Vivian's kooky humor is understood as Altaїr's body language speaks for him. Maria and Vivian won't be catfighting for Altaїr as Vivian respects her as an independent woman but by the end of the tale, they'll be friends.

_PeacefullyCrazy_: Thanks for loving the story that much, I appreciate it.

_CheLeapOfFaith_: Yeah, my summer ends next week which is a bummer. Vivian's always upbeat despite her crappy luck in life as she tries to stay sane with the culture shock and Altaїr. . .well, he's just adorably grumpy Altaїr. Thanks for loving the story so much and for reviewing again.

_Bearybeary_: Nope, she's using it as a distraction now but she'll be torturing- ahem, entertaining- her group once they're rowing down the Nile.

_Foreverafter_: Malik will certainly be the peacemaker but he's full of humor since he had his funny moments in the game.

_xXxSlytheringQueenxXx_: I'm trying to keep Vivian as the average college girl with normal gaming knowledge but I'm glad you love her! There's plenty of OC's from the imagination lot that can be swept off their feet by Altaїr or have him fall under their beautiful gaze (Mary Sue's) but Vivian's neither. She won't ask to be an Assassin or whine about love but rather, keep poking him with a stick to accomplish his mission as she tries to survive in the past.

_AnimeWolfAlienRaptor4_: You're right, it does have mystery. There's a bunch of genres for this tale but I picked humor and adventure. I'm trying to keep it realistically humorous so I'm happy you're enjoying it! Vivian always manages to annoy Altaїr with whatever she says, intentional or not. lol

* * *

**Next Time:**

"You're picky" Malik stated bluntly rather than tiptoeing around it and pointed a finger towards his white robes to point out, "You refuse to wear any robes that have any discolorations and choose cotton fabric that's only been left in the sun to fade a pristine white. Not to mention that you travel away from the castle to buy that ridiculous crimson sash that anybody could buy at a third of the price within the village."

Altaїr narrowed his eyes and Vivian's jaw hit the floor when he defended, "Where else am I going to find _this_ type of silk fabric in Syria? Have you _seen_ the cross-stitching?"

He was about to grab the red sash around his waist but Vivian pulled him by the forearm to halt any arguing, towing him towards the city's entrance as she chastised, "Altaїr, don't be a drama queen. I expect this from snobby elites of your time and useless reality TV stars of my time that belong in the darkest pit of a gutter but not you."

The assassin had absolutely no idea what she'd just uttered and aimed his eyes to the grip she had on his forearm. Instead of chastising her about personal space and physical touching, he stated matter-of-factly, "That's calico from the lands of the Delhi Sultanate."

"I swear, if you tell me you're wearing satin underwear, you will drop down on my awesomeness bar" Vivian threatened with a miserable whine at realizing her deadly assassin was rather finicky about his wardrobe.


	11. Requiem For A Robe

**Requiem For A Robe**

* * *

Altaїr frowned to himself as he felt the tiniest twinge of a sting in his left shoulder blade and wondered if he was getting rusty. He'd been on the road without combat for weeks and the water travel restricted his agile skills since he was meticulous in keeping his body honed in all aspects. He would take a few hours to practice his skills at camp whenever his group stopped for the night but for the past days, he'd done nothing but sleep and Altaїr was not the lazy type. Had he really become lethargic from facing his nemesis, the river? The assassin moved silently through the thin crowd at the entrance/exit facing the Nile and his eyes narrowed at the steady flow of the water, hating that he'd have to make another trip across it.

Giving one last sweep around the area with his eagle vision, he found guards still on duty at the border and easily blended in with a group of merchants leaving towards the dock. At that hour, late after a shift ended, nobody really gave you any attention as exhaustion set in from a day's grueling work and Altaїr found his companions at the edge of the dock. They saved him the task of finding them with his special sense and he strolled up to them casually as he saw them playing a game in the wet dirt of the riverbank as three columns and rows were divided as several squares had a circle and another sign. Well, at least they kept themselves occupied while he gathered information around the city and covertly eliminated a few Templars to prove to himself he hadn't gotten rusty. His search had now pointed him towards the majestic pyramids of Giza and three dead Templars had been hidden throughout the city to be found days after he departed. Standing in front of the two, he crossed his arms to stand imposingly but his voice was anything but as he asked curiously, "What are you two doing?"

"Winning at Ticky-Tacky-Toad" Malik answered proudly as he'd tricked his friend by playing the clueless card to gain the upper hand and Vivian muffled a laugh behind her hand to his pronunciation.

"Tic-Tac-Toe, Malik" she corrected with a friendly smile since it was a miracle they could understand each other at all (she still couldn't find a decent theory for that) and clapped him on the back for the win as he stood up to greet their returning assassin friend. Vivian hoped he'd gotten what he needed and released some homicidal tendencies on the Templars or she'd be receiving PMS-ing symptoms in epic proportions from the man once they returned to camp. She'd no idea why he turned on her to use as a verbal chew toy when she acted calmly without the sarcasm but maybe it was another of the universe's mysteries. Clasping her hands behind her back, Vivian leaned on the balls of her feet as she turned to Altaїr and asked sweetly with a big smile, "So, have a nice stretch climbing Egyptian architecture?"

Hidden meaning: Did you have fun impaling Templars on your hidden blade?

Altaїr mulled it over as he saw her too-innocent smile and returned his own mischievous one with a simple, "Yes."

Malik shook his head as he laughed to his friend's method of releasing stress and the three walked towards the boat as their quick stay in Cairo came to an end. Altaїr gazed at the blue horizon as it showed the first hints of sunset as lavender mixed in into the sky and actually looked forward to sleep today. Without glancing at his female companion, Altaїr scoffed snippily to add in, "I prefer Damascus, however."

"Wait till we hit Morocco" she grinned enthusiastically to the beautiful architecture and mosaic work that withstood through the centuries, swaying her hips as she performed a little jig on the shore. Altaїr wasn't the type of man to strike a woman but Vivian was not considered the innocent bystander or the respectable type as he placed her in a category all by herself which allowed him to do what he did next: trip her. His graceful movement failed to be noticed by the yapping Vivian and a block to her left foot brought the talking woman down onto the soft dirt of the shore, covering her once again in dirt just as she'd fallen in mud hours ago.

"What matters is that we achieve our goal" he reminded simply as he stepped over her fallen form carefully without an ounce of remorse to hop onto the wooden dock. Malik could only stare in pity (and a little amusement) as he helped her stand up while Altaїr untied their boat from the wooden post. Vivian whimpered to the awful condition of her clothes as she wiped her oval face, feeling miserable once more after washing her face clean only a half hour ago.

"Remember, Altaїr, you will hold power that nobody's held in centuries and in a great amount that no human should if you succeed with this journey" Vivian advised carefully with threat as her tone shifted to convey seriousness because nobody knew what crazy things the pieces of Eden could do. Those beings had been powerful and if humans were made to look like them without any of their abilities, it gave humankind the outlook of a child holding a gun. It echoed the myth of Pandora's box and Vivian tried her best to advise him as she wagged a motherly finger (despite he beat her age by five years- almost six), "As my Uncle Ben once said, 'with great power, comes great responsibility'. Heed it, Grand Master."

The assassin nodded silently despite he gave no verbal promise and left the two on the shoreline as he hopped into the boat to leave. He wanted to be across the Nile before nightfall to set up camp inland as the journey to Giza would begin the next morning. Malik turned to the frowning woman just as she'd been ready to flick off Altaїr behind his back for both his 'I'm greater than thou' attitude (not to mention tripping her) and he complimented, "Your uncle is a wise man for saying that."

Her frown immediately turned upside down as a goofy grin spread over her dry lips and Vivian admitted casually, "Oh, _I_ don't have an Uncle Ben. He's just a fictional character from an illustrated paper novel called Spiderman that exists in my realm. I just thought the quote was fitting."

Malik's face twisted into sheer disbelief to her crafty mind as Vivian hopped into the boat while innocently humming Spiderman's theme. However, her peppy tune was cut short when the end of her robes caught onto a protruding nail at the edge of the dock and a sharp rip echoed in the air. Her eyes widened in horror at how many layers of her robes had torn and she stiffened immediately because having it rip further would only worsen the situation. Looking to Altaїr, who had been fixing their travel packs in the middle of the canoe but was now staring with mild shock, she squeaked meekly, "How bad is it?"

"Judging by the look on Malik's face, very bad" the assassin answered with a slow drawl as he watched the woman's beige cheeks turn a rosy shade in embarrassment.

"Very bad is an understatement, the back of her robes are missing entirely" Malik told them softly to keep their conversation private and Vivian's hands instantly shot to her butt to use whatever fabric was left to cover herself. Had she instantly shamed the dai by giving him an eyeful of her frilly gray underwear? It was all she had in stock to make! She wouldn't dare pat her rear to figure out how much fabric had been torn away and stared at the floor of the canoe sullenly to her crappy luck that day. Really, when were the gaming gods going to hand her a freebie? It's not like she was asking to be Cinderella or have the unnatural flawlessness of a Sue!

Altaїr sighed under his breath as he opened his pack to grab a brown linen blanket and handed it to her, feeling sympathetic when her shaking hands grasped it quickly and wrapped it around her waist. Ushering her outside the canoe, Vivian's paranoia feared he would humiliate her in front of the dock but Altaїr looked to Malik to state simply, "Stay with the boat. I'm going to find an affordable tailor to buy Vivian a new robe since I'd forgotten all about that until they ripped."

"Life is indeed a disturbing universe" Vivian muttered flatly under her breath since she certainly hadn't forgotten, especially after being hurled outside 'fancy town' as she called it but pulled herself back onto the wooden dock. The assassin followed after without scratching at the floor with the ferocity of a wet cat like she had with her shabby pulling skills and didn't know whether to feel honored that she managed to drag him to a store or fear for an incident to occur.

"Can't I-"

"Maybe I-"

Vivian and Malik found themselves blinking at each other when they spoke aloud in unison about visiting the store together. There was a reason both hesitated to let the master assassin visit stores, especially tailors, Altaїr stared at the dai to question suspiciously, "Why does nobody want me to shop with them?"

"Well. . ." Vivian faltered since there was always something that the assassin found unfavorable within a store, regardless of what type of goods they sold. The last store they visited was to refill their water canteens and Altaїr had grimaced at the store, saying the people had probably stored it in the hot sun due to the small establishment. Vivian had played it off by telling the owner he wasn't right in the head and left quickly with a modest thank you for selling to them. It was horribly ironic that he fought fiercely to protect the innocent and civilians but he would pick at humble store establishments to suit his tastes.

"You're picky" Malik stated bluntly rather than tiptoeing around it and pointed a finger towards Altaїr's white robes to point out, "You refuse to wear any robes that have the slighest discolorations and choose only cotton fabric that's been left in the sun to fade a pristine white," his voice almost slowed into a dismayed sight as he added in, "Not to mention that you travel away from the city to buy that ridiculous crimson sash that anybody could buy at a third of the price within the village or even cheaper, buy the fabric to create it at home."

Altaїr narrowed his eyes to being called fickle and Vivian's jaw hit the floor when he defended stiffly, "Where else am I going to find this type of silk fabric in Syria? Have you seen the intricate cross-stitching on this?"

He was about to grab the red sash around his waist to prove his point but Vivian pulled him by the forearm to halt any arguing that would undoubtedly had ensued between the men. She towed him towards the city's entrance, leaving Malik behind as the dai shook his head, and she chastised the assassin with disbelief in her voice, "Altaїr, don't be a drama queen. I expect this from snobby elites of your time and useless reality TV stars of my time that belong in the darkest pit of a gutter but not you. Not _you_."

The assassin had absolutely no idea what she'd just uttered and aimed his eyes to the grip she had on his forearm. Instead of chastising her about personal space and physical touching, he stated matter-of-factly, "That's Damascus metal and white calico from the lands of the Delhi Sultanate."

"I swear, if you tell me you're wearing cotton underwear with your initials sewn on, you will drop down on my awesomeness bar" Vivian threatened with a miserable whine at realizing her deadly assassin was rather finicky about his wardrobe.

* * *

Vivian mentally winced at the cheapest robes she could afford at such short notice and although she wasn't picky on clothing (she was a bargain shopper at her college age), the fabric was thinner and flimsier than she would have liked and she was in the past! Time was ticking away as Malik was patiently waiting for them but she couldn't dare herself to buy the thin robes and sat down to sulk on a stool, trying to figure something out. How could she solve her current conundrum with little time? She didn't have anything to sell, except her stolen riq, and the dirham coins she had earned from screeching her parody songs had already been spent on food for the group.

Altaїr wandered the small store with his commanding stride and posture fit for a king as he observed everything in sight with a critical eye. Fabrics met a harsh judge with the assassin as his meticulous eye criticized what was worthy. He'd snorted in disdain through half of the textiles gathered on display in the store and as he approached the cotton fabrics, Vivian sighed exasperatedly, "Altaїr, you'd be more help to me if you weren't scrutinizing everything."

"Hurry up, we have to cross the Nile" he ordered impatiently since he was tired and ready to leave the city, pointing to the robes in front of her for emphasis. Did he really want her to buy that? She sighed once more to his authoritarian attitude because he really wasn't helping matters by stomping around with the aggressiveness of a hippo and yanked the back of his robes to keep him in place. The assassin tried to bat her hand away since he would not be constrained to obey her whims but she didn't budge from his reprimanding slaps. . .hmm, he'd give her points for insistence.

"I can barely afford this and. . ._look_ at it! It looks like the naughty nightwear of your era!" she hissed worriedly with an anxious face as she touched the thin fabric between her fingers. She was rather conservative with her wardrobe and knowing the norms of the archaic age, transparent fabrics were a huge no-no for ladies. Her chances at walking out with a decent wardrobe were slipping away faster than she could catch it with fishing reel and she certainly didn't want to leave with a robe that displayed her undergarments to the world.

The store owner didn't make it better when they piped up cheerfully, "Of course it is, your husband will love it."

Vivian jumped forward to grasp his left wrist before Altaїr charged at the poor merchant for daring to say such a thing since he resembled a monk of all people! He thrashed in her grip with the deadliness of a viper as she kept a firm hold on the enraged assassin and dropped the fabric in her left hand to grasp his wrist for an extra hold. To the merchant, her actions meant an affectionate display between spouses but in reality, Vivian was holding the leash to a rabid wolverine ready to rampage throughout Cairo. She managed a cheerful smile despite the wariness of having Altaїr break free and asked the middle aged merchant politely, "We're a little tight on currency. Is there a nearby shop we could trade at?"

Altaїr's head snapped in her direction at breakneck speed because running around Cairo was _not_ on the itinerary of their travels and he certainly wouldn't be the one to do it. Vivian merely kept the annoyingly innocent smile plastered on her face as she turned to him and piped up with a sickeningly sweet tone to ask him, "You don't mind searching, do you, dear?"

He would've hurled her into the river of death to fight hippos barehanded for being called as such but they both knew he would be faster on his own and narrowed his eyes as he silently sent her a death glare. The woman was more trouble than she was worth already and grit his teeth as he knew her earlier diversion would come at a price; didn't everything in his life twist that way as of late? She averted her gaze to play the oblivious bystander as she sorted through more fabrics and Altaїr grumbled inaudibly under his breath for being saddled with the petite pest called Vivian.

This new predicament led to a wall climbing and gravity defying Altaїr who ran three blocks over Egyptian rooftops without stop, indented his foot in a weak roof that could've sprained his ankle, to find a trading merchant to exchange Vivian's riq for money. He'd scared the merchant into a near heart attack when he popped out of nowhere like a phantom to initiate his business talk immediately without introductions or greetings. After arguing over the pristine value of the instrument and threatening to cut off manly parts, Altaїr left the incensed trader to return to the tailor with his new dirham coins. Of course, luck wasn't with him when he handed his payment to Vivian and she told him the words he dreaded to hear, "This still isn't enough."

"You are lucky our 'friends' left me parting gifts" he had warned her with an incensed hiss as he decided to use the loot and weapons he'd picked off the Templars to sell. It's not like he was going to keep them since the extra weight would lower the boat further into the water so he might as well profit from it to keep fighting his enemies.

Again, this led Altaїr to climb upwards on the same limestone building next to the tailor's shop and run three blocks north, avoiding the indent he'd recently caused on a roof but managed to enrage a mother bird protecting her unborn eggs. The assassin had to bat the furious brown sparrow away while running towards his target zone and hoping the animal hadn't ruined his robes with its little talons. Honestly, he was having more clashes with animals on that day than any other in his life! He eventually found the store without breaking into a sweat (although he was close), slapped down all the weapons he'd found from the dead Templars to sell and after arguing that a friend had given him the dangerous arsenal, threatened to cut off a finger until sealing another deal.

The assassin arrived at Vivian's spot once more with the money in a separate pouch (she wasn't getting any of _his _money!) and handed it to the woman, who told him they had enough but she wasn't buying the flimsy robes. Their meager fortune might allow her to purchase the thin robes but she would not demean herself by wearing them in public and probably landing in jail within five minutes. Altaїr grabbed one of the robes and passed the gray fabric over the palm of his hand while looking at the current fabric she wore, studying the difference by eye alone. He almost wanted to punch himself when he had to bring himself to agree with her for the first time and reluctantly admitted with a flat tone, "No, we need thicker fabric because you're not a harlot. . .and no wife of mine will wear this in public."

Vivian almost gagged to hearing the humorous words but managed a shaky smile of relief as she agreed, "The next set of robes will be perfect, they're cotton so they'll be comfortable," her voice paused as her tone turned meeker and gentler to add in quickly, "but we still need a few more coins."

Altaїr shot her a look of disdain and desperation that she'd never seen on the strong man because he didn't want to run back to the trade merchant again. He almost collapsed onto his knees for having to run back there for a third time with risk of having his eyes gouged out by a furious mother bird and falling through weak roofs during a free run. . .not to mention the argument that would ensue with the angry threatened merchant. Vivian tried to lighten his mood by smoothing a hand down the slate robes she had her eye on and appealed to his fashionable side with a friendly smile, "Look, durable cotton throughout all layers that fits the shape of one's body comfortably. No fanciness but it has a little soft wool at the cowl to warm up the user when they use it as a hood over their head. Nice, huh?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he outright refused to play her bartering game and snapped harshly, "I don't care if it's the crappiest crop of imported cotton or the finest silk from the East, I'm not-"

Altaїr flatly stared at the back of the unaware trade merchant with lifeless eyes that sucked the cheer out of the very air around him as he questioned flatly, "How much for three throwing knives?"

"The store is closed" the man told him gruffly as he finished closing his shop for the evening and turned around to yelp when he saw the same man that had frightened him with the penalty of death two times that day. Did the stranger think he would trade goods with a man that kept threatening him since their first exchange? Instantly, he went on the defense and tried to shoo the Syrian man away with a sharp snap, "You! Get out of here!"

Altaїr's left eye twitched madly as his stoic demeanor threatened to break and he retorted tightly with growing rage in his tone, "Look, I've been here two times! I have a wife that is driving me insane at the tailor's because her clothes ripped at the dock and I'm already behind in our travels. Frankly, I wonder why I married her at this point! I have been attacked by animals, thrown in a river, and run throughout a city whose economy is coming into question when I have to pay so damn much for a pair of CLOTHES!"

Leaning close to the trembling man as the assassin's height towered over him, Altaїr hissed lowly with a lethal tone on his scowling face, "Now, are we going to trade or will I have to knock down your store and sell your goods in the seedier parts of town to get my money?"

Altaїr wouldn't stoop down to such activities but with his threatening aura and strong speech, he expected his bluff to be believed and a second later. . .

"I. . .I think we can trade" the man whimpered weakly as raw fear and self-preservation won over because he wanted to make it home alive for supper. The wicked smile the assassin sent him almost had him running off into the next building for safety but didn't dare risk it as the white clad man pulled him into his own store for the business trade. Nobody noticed the two men disappear into the shadows as Altaїr began his bargaining skills once more and the startled man offered no verbal resistance as they both wanted the business transaction over with.

Altaїr made a fair trade and returned to the rooftops, traversing the same buildings he'd run through, avoiding the same infuriated mama bird that wanted to peck out his eyes, and landed in a cart of hay right outside the tailor's shop. His landing wasn't one of the easiest and he groaned softly when a twinge shot down his spine and cursed his lack of training along with Vivian's existence. He still had pieces of yellow hay falling off his spotless white robes as he staggered into the shop with sloppy steps and shoved the money into Vivian's hands as she'd been waiting patiently for him.

Vivian's green eyes lit up at the little money pouch but she blinked rapidly a second later towards the panting assassin as he used the customer stool to sit and catch his breath. Where had the tireless man disappeared to? When he had a mission drilled into his mind, nothing stopped the deadly assassin but doing this for Vivian had blown away his lung capacity. Her nose could smell the faint distinct scent of hay on his clothes and hoped he hadn't jumped off a building with those fearsome leaps of faith, leaning down to ask worriedly, "Are you all right?"

"Get. . .the. . .robes. . .wench" Altaїr grit out between clenched teeth because he was not going to run all over the city again to find another merchant in case his money wasn't sufficient. This time, he'd make her run the distance herself because his kind nature was done for the day. If anything, it wouldn't see daylight for another two days.

She smiled nervously to his words and brushed her hands over the smooth new cotton robes she now wore as her old ones were gathered in the elbow crook of her left arm (they would prove useful as rags). Depositing the little money sack back into his calloused hands, Vivian informed him slowly and cautiously with a warm smile, "It turns out that I had a few coins stuck inside my pockets since they weren't fully dry yet and I found them after you left. They covered the sale price of the robes so you can save this money instead for future purposes."

Altaїr's first instinct was to throttle her neck until she turned purple for having him run back and forth like a houseboy and embarrassing his assassin skills in such a manner. His sense of honor won over due to her civilian status and his hands halted in midair before he actually choked her in public. Vivian jumped back as she watched his fingers twitch in the air, his face twisting into a madman's expression before he stood up with inaudible mutterings and stomped away from her. She wanted to call him back to point out it wasn't her fault entirely but maybe some time alone was what he needed to cool down his frustrations. Thanking the merchant gratefully for the purchased clothes (she was glad they finally finished their trip), she scampered off after him to catch up before he left her dwindling in the wind and took the boat himself without her. The man's long stride and intimidating posture practically screamed 'ready to rampage' as he cut a straight beeline for the Nile shore and Vivian called out to beckon, "Altaїr, would you slow down? You have those long lean legs and I have these tiny little hooves."

The assassin halted in his steps as he was more than ready to unleash a barrage of insults in the middle of the road where people could hear it but they died on his lips. Only Vivian could say the most idiotic of things and not bring his blade through her throat. Turning around, he glared at the bothersome woman as she stopped in mid-run to catch her breath and watched her hand wave innocently towards him. She'd developed second thoughts on approaching him straightaway due to his danger level but he commanded firmly, "Get over here before I butcher you."

His ego was satiated somewhat when she obeyed and with the loyalty of a puppy, stood next to him with a hopeful smile reminiscent of a dog's yip. He almost laughed at the idea of a puppy named Vivian (he often imagined it to please his dark humor) and pinched the neckline of her robes to study the fabric. Vivian merely blinked to his sudden interest in the cloth but said nothing of it because having him snap her head off would not end her day happily after buying decent robes for the road. She would certainly take care of the new robes after what they had paid for it (and that had been at the cheapest store in Cairo) and hoped they'd last longer than the torn one in her arms. Truly, ancient times were unrelenting and she missed the modern era where you could pick an item off the clothing rack and charge it to credit rather than running everywhere to look for scraps of money.

Altaїr studied the mixed cotton fabric with a keen eye until his curiosity withered and he explained listlessly, "The cowl is made of imported cashmere, not wool, so learn your fabrics as you'll need that knowledge when ordering from tailors. This will make you warm during the early day's humidity so I suggest keeping it at your shoulders."

Vivian's face fell into a deadpan expression for both his opinion and casual suggestion since she mostly expected to be insulted and told how much of a burden she was. She didn't poke the bear hiding within him as they spoke civilly and agreed with his remark to assure, "I'll use the second outer robe I have in my pack as my everyday robe then."

Walking towards the exit of the city to finally continue their journey, she dodged the small rocks in her path and piped up to keep the conversation ongoing, "You'd love the textile stores in my time. We have synthetic manmade fabrics now and can dye a cloth any color imaginable. I can't believe you're finicky over clothing but then again, maybe that explains why you practically glow like a star among the other assassins with your bone white robes. If Ubisoft decides to turn you into Arwen with her blinding brightness in the next game, I might have to choose Ezio as my new favorite. He lets you dye his robes any color-"

Once more, Altaїr had no idea of what she was spouting about and pointed to his left shoulder where fine gray stitching bordered the edge of his most superficial layer. Her left eyebrow rose as he ran a fingertip over the fine binding of the cloth and pointed out haughtily, "Have you _seen_ the marvelous appliqué handwork used here? My private tailor in Damascus always has what I need in stock."

. . . "You have your own _tailor_? In Damascus?"

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Plea-"

"I swear on your life that I will skewer you on my blade if you don't stop asking" Altaїr growled with frustration as he loosened the leather straps from the metal buckles located at the back of his brown boots. After a long exhausting day, he needed to unwind and relax for the night but Vivian's curious rambles quickly jabbed at his irritation with the intensity of a scorching branding rod. The woman sat down on the log with a frown at losing the argument with the assassin but then again, when did she win?

Malik glanced over at the feuding duo from his place at their makeshift fire as he warmed pieces of bread over hot flat rocks that Vivian cleaned at the riverbank. They managed to afford a loaf in the city and had it cut into slices at the bakery to save them the trouble at camp. The trio had been very lucky to find that their food hadn't been spoiled with water from their river rafting earlier in the day and were joyous to add more food to their packs. The dai never failed to find the two bickering over something at that precise hour, wherever they traveled, and had become accustomed to playing arbiter to cease the arguing. At the current moment, Altaїr was trying to make himself comfortable by taking off his boots and weapons while Vivian finished ripping the brown skirt of her old robes into usable strips for sewing or cleaning rags. He knew he'd regret asking the second the words left his lips but if he didn't, the two would blow into an argument, "What are you two arguing about now? So help me if it's something trivial, I will send you straight to bed without supper."

Altaїr threw him a wry look for daring to withhold his meal and his voice dripped with disdain as he explained, "She wanted me to give her a _massage_-"

"At _first_, but seeing the cute bunnies made me wonder if the Apple could control them so they could do a little dance" she corrected matter-of-factly to dispel the glare permanently drawn onto his face as she eyed a small brown hare leaping away into the night. She tried not to burst into laughter but a conjured image of Templars recreating Jackson's 'Thriller' video cracked her resolve. Oh, if only she had the power to make them humiliate themselves as fate deemed her its unofficial jester since arriving. Instead, she was left to imagine cute wild animals dancing in perfect unison while her companion found no hilarity in it as he lacked the humor gene in his personality. Ubisoft really created quite the character with this guy. . .then again, he was real in this realm and she might as well be the illusion.

His stone set face told her that he wasn't considering it or budging from his stand and she crossed her arms to lean against the log with a disappointed pout, "We never do anything fun."

"We had enough _fun _to last a lifetime today" he muttered darkly to the crazy events that were mostly aimed at him and hoped their travel to Giza would fare better. If the Templars at Cairo caught onto their arrival, they would be long gone by tomorrow morning to initiate a fight as they placed a decent distance between them with their campsite.

"My coin from singing helped us buy bread and a few pieces of meat, I think I did good for a girl starting out on her own" Vivian said proudly to her new developing skills as an explorer but the assassin snorted underneath his hood to the catastrophes she caused with said actions. On the other hand, they had been running a little short on bread so maybe her skills weren't all a complete waste.

"Starting? It's never going to lift with your wretched voice" he mocked sardonically with a superior smirk and she snatched the piece of bread he held between his fingers to eat it herself. Vivian grinned evilly as she took the first bite to claim it as her own as he stared with open shock to her audacity and sudden dexterity in reach. How dare she steal his food? A second later wiped it away as he dove for the woman chewing her bite, tackling her to the bare ground as he exclaimed indignantly for being robbed, "You little ragamuffin!"

They began a fight for the coveted piece clasped between her hands as she fell onto the dirt on her back, the assassin trying to wedge her hands open from atop. She squealed like a piglet as the rolled over the ground, his calloused fingers prying her weak digits open with force as he demanded, "Give me that bread!"

"No, it's mine!" she objected with her naturally comedic voice as her feet wiggled in the air in an attempt to knock him off but all it did was leave footprints on his robes. Throughout it all, Malik kept a casual air about him as he watched them fight like alley cats and simply kept on heating their food. Altaїr grit his teeth as he tried to keep a good hold on her before she landed another bite on his dinner bread and practically growled when she exclaimed, "You should learn never to insult a lady."

"I'll do that when I see a true lady" he shot back with a snarl and relished seeing her cheeks puff in rage to the insult of her femininity. Malik ended the fight when they rolled into his area because he wasn't about to unwillingly merge into their dust ball of a quarrel to get struck by flying hands or sacrifice the food warming next to him. He grabbed the scrap of bread between the hands of his friends and ate it himself without a single word as he turned away from them to pull apart a piece of seasoned dry meat.

Altaїr and Vivian halted immediately as the spell for the bread was broken, turning to him in the hopes that the kind dai would share a morsel with the two and Malik stared at them awkwardly for the sad longing eyes they were giving him. He could see Vivian resorting to that behavior due to her personality but Altaїr astonished him because he'd never do so unless he was completely starved. He didn't feel comfortable after a few seconds when their eyes didn't turn away (or blink, for that matter) and with an aggravated groan, he grabbed his own bread to divide it into three pieces. Honestly, the things he did for his friends! Giving them one piece each, he directed a stern expression towards them as he played the leadership role for peace and sighed with aggravation, "Fine, you little whelps, but you _better_ stay put. . .and what do you say after receiving food?"

"Thank you, Malik" they replied in flat unison for being reminded about manners in the isolated campsite and the dai waved his hand to let them be for the night.

They retreated to their corners to nibble on their portions with triumphant smiles for scoring a pity morsel from their friend and Malik shook his head for playing caretaker to the two. Having to reign in Altaїr's impulsiveness back in Syria had been bad enough and when he thought the man finally had his bad habits under control, he received a twin that matched the assassin in craziness. He should've just gotten two dogs, named them after the feuding duo, and set sailed off into the sunset towards Sicily to live his life. Instead, he was traveling with the two as they nursed their broken pride by munching on scraps of bread.

Vivian grabbed a nearby leather canteen that she'd carried as extra because they didn't know where their next stop would be and water was crucial in humid environments as they sweated like little pigs in blankets. Altaїr had nagged about her extra belongings as he brought the bare minimum for the trip but her items came in handy and she'd assured that he wouldn't regret it or have to carry her heavier pack. The words 'don't have to carry' sealed a deal between them at Masyaf and he'd let her be, laughing in his mind when he watched her fall behind with her oversized pack while he strolled easily with his own light bag. She showed the plump canteen to the two and announced proudly with a peppy grin, "I bought a fruit drink to accompany our meal tonight because bland water will only taste good for so long."

"How much did it cost?" Altaїr asked suspiciously as he was the penny-pinching type because if they didn't need it, it shouldn't be bought. Their money would be for bare lodgings in settlements, light meals, and maintaining their weaponry only. Malik shot him a dry expression for the question because they needed food to live, period, and they were lucky to afford it with their small earnings.

"Did I mention it can melt your enemies with a little spritz?" she joked innocently with a cheeky smile as she pointed the drinking tip of the canteen towards him but his eyes narrowed to negate her humor. He would never lend a humorous word, would he? Wincing to his blood freezing stare, Vivian cleared her throat to disperse the tension in the air and placed the canteen to the side as she answered his question with a short clipped sigh, "Jeez, can you ever take a joke? It cost less than the bread since meat's the most expensive and you're the biggest carnivore out of all of us. Just for that, Malik and I will divide your share- eek!"

She dove behind a log as he lunged for her like a lethal leopard to an unexpected impala but Malik waved a hand in the open space between the two to halt the next rumble. Altaїr's head snapped towards him for being denied his prey as Vivian used her feet to nudge him away since she prized the canteen highly above all else and would have her sip of the juice. The assassin calmed but remained tense with rigid shoulders as she clutched the canteen with the neediness of a starving raccoon (he could've ripped it away easily but she believed the false sense of security) and Malik lectured with a firm tone, "Altaїr, be a good boy and thank her for getting us juice. . .it's not orange, is it? I'm allergic."

"He breaks out in pink blotches when he touches the fruit" Altaїr smirked with dark delight since the dai discovered it during their supper meal after initiation, spending his celebration as a new assassin in the infirmary wing. Oh, the jokes Altaїr had bombarded him with the next day were legendary. It was Malik's turn to glare as the assassin verbally poked somebody else and knew it was subtle payback for defending the woman and her canteen since Altaїr wasn't going to be her protector. Of course, the humor he found about someone's allergic reactions didn't interest anybody else and he found himself greeted by silence when Vivian simply dismissed his words.

"No, it's apple" she assured Malik with a sympathetic smile to soothe any worries and filled a small wooden cup with the sweet juice, handing it over to him with a smile. He replied with polite thanks and she filled up the next two cups, almost bursting into laughter when she noticed Altaїr eyeing her suspiciously. Did he think she would drug or poison him in the middle of nowhere? She ignored his paranoia with a soft shake of the head, poking Altaїr in the shoulder where the hippo had bruised it as he hissed in warning and she scooted away with a motherly, "Eat up, eagle boy."

It wasn't the best dinner they'd had but it was the best since they'd started traveling down the Nile and that sufficed. Heroism never brought much perks for the trio, only misadventure and quick changing luck that flew in either direction within seconds. They'd never seek recognition mostly due to their professions, but it would've been nice to have spare coin during their travel rather than resorting to looting dead enemies. On the other hand, Altaїr had Vivian in his midst and he could make her do tricks like a dancing monkey to bring them extra money- she was eager to help, after all.

_I am the sly fox_, he thought mischievously to his genius since she would do almost anything to prove herself and he could take full advantage of that. Relaxing against a wooden log with a full stomach, the assassin closed his eyes to receive a small moment of peace after a good meal. Of course, a green-eyed kitty cat named Vivian burst that bubble of solitude with her own curiosity and as the saying went 'curiosity killed the cat'.

With their supper finished, Vivian had been wrestling on whether to approach the assassin since dinnertime usually brought lethargy with digesting food. A question that had been burning in her mind for the last few days finally passed through her lips as she asked curiously with a hopeful smile, "Do you trust me now, Altaїr?"

"No."

She balked with fresh irritation and incredulity to his blunt answers since he didn't hesitate or try to mull it over. Even feigning contemplation would've made the strike easier but his straightforward answer plunged the friendship scale down to negative infinity. Was she really a difficult person to trust? Her mind dwelled on it for a second but her emotions reacted faster as she demand curtly, "I've gotten chucked out of cities by Templars, beat one with an instrument, cured your seasickness, saved you from a damn crocodile, not to mention a hippo, and you still refuse? Are you really this stubborn?"

He wasn't affected by her disbelief because no, he would not place his trust in anyone who wasn't from his order or allied to it. Their acquaintance had only lasted three weeks and counting but he was not going to leave himself open to be betrayed again by a confidante. Throughout his life, he'd grown to be a solitary man and despite the recent developments that changed his outlook of the world, he would remain a private man with reservation. He simply poked the makeshift fire to brighten the flames over camp but did nothing to fan the ones spewing from his mouth as he stated coldly, "People can mimic trust and use it easily against others-"

"I'm not Al Mualim, do you really see me as the type to manipulate?" she pointed out sharply to his perceived misconception since she'd done nothing but try to prove her worth throughout the trip. She hadn't tried to run off or stab him behind his back with a manic smile because if anything, she was the fan loyally following to both survive and explore with him. There was nothing deceiving in her behavior or physical appearance as she appeared more as a foreign peasant than anything else and lacked qualities needed for tricking an enemy. She waved her hands over her own body to emphasize her helplessness in his world and blurted shrilly without restraint, "I mean, _look_ at me! I'm more liable to be thrown into an asylum than a top traitor with a pokerface."

"You find it easy to lie and conjure lives in public" he answered easily with a smug cold tone towards her knack to assume different personalities despite she'd stated her inability to lie very well. Vivian sighed exasperatedly as her friendly nature to help others came back to bite her in the butt and could hear Homer Simpson's humorous quote 'the lesson learned is never help anyone'. Maybe if she was a better liar, she could've created a fake assassin identity at their first meeting- after all, fanfiction was full of OC backgrounds she could've used (women loved that damn assassin) and given thanks in a future fanfic of her own. Life liked to kick her in the behind, didn't it?

"I do it for _you_, you ass" she snapped sourly to his wrongful accusation since she promised to do everything in her power to help him on his quest. Frankly, she was surprised he hadn't slept next to her with open eyes until dawn to make sure she didn't try anything funny. She would keep hearing his suspicious opinions of her if she didn't nip them in the bud and glanced at him with a challenging expression to state sharply, "Why don't you use your fancy little eagle vision to see what color I pop out as?"

Malik turned to Vivian with a curious stare as he nibbled on a hard edge of his dried meat and asked, "You know about that unique ability of his?"

She grinned wittily to the handy knowledge, pointing to her head to answer chirpily, "I know everything. . .Altaїr-wise, anyway," her lips pursed to her chosen words and she added in flatly, "Hmm, that didn't sound right."

Altaїr never considered the idea of using his special sight since he'd been eyeing her daily routine for slip-ups and nodded in agreement to her suggestion. She surprised him by clapping her hands eagerly and he groaned mentally at knowing an enemy wouldn't be smiling like a dolt at the idea of another interrogation. He ordered her to stay in her spot despite her complaints that he could read everyone's motives pretty clearly with or without their movement but he just wanted her to sit and shut up. Unlike the game which displayed nothing above his nose (unless you jiggled with the controller and camera view), Vivian saw the briefest of changes in his pupil dilation as the fire added better lighting to their camp and found that rather intriguing. Ubisoft lacked any further details on the abilities his genealogy inherited and wondered when the adventure game had decided to melt into fantasy with a dash of sci-fi. Her thoughts about the fascinating game franchise were swept into a halt when he murmured with perplexity, "Hmm, that's strange."

This snapped her gaze to his immediately as he continued to stare at her with his impassive expression that would unnerve a few people at that point. Had she fallen astray from one of his categories? There were only four to choose from. Either way, his words didn't fill her with confidence about the 'trusty time traveler' rank she was trying her best to achieve and knew there was more to his words. Vivian remained unfazed on the surface by the intense probing but desired to know what he meant and bluntly asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"You're shifting between white and blue" he explained slowly as a hint of intrigue mixed into his voice because it had never happened to him before. A solid color always matched the individuals he observed but the woman before him had white swirling over her head as blue blended upwards from her neck, merging the two but not quite creating a new color altogether. He had no explanation for the strange phenomena in his ability, it was entirely absurd!

Vivian summarized both of their confused thoughts into a disappointed exclamation, "Ah crap, I'm a mood ring!"

She curled up into a comical ball as the answer she received was not what she'd been expecting (so much for her 'welcome to the friendship boat' wish) and Malik handed her a warm bread roll to draw her out of her invisible shell. By the end of the adventure, he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up being the newest teacher for the order's children after everything he put up with from both Vivian and Altaїr. Her nose sniffed the warm bread that gave off a sweet scent from its freshness and she yanked the bread out of his hands with a giddy 'gimme'. Shaking her head as she sunk her teeth into the sweet slice of bread, she mumbled pitifully between mouthfuls, "I can't 'Hakuna Matata' this, man. Even AC logic seems to have spun beyond its normalcy laws."

Altaїr decided to get himself some air to clear his head after having his special sight backfire horribly because he'd been waiting to accuse her proudly and kick her out of camp but that hope had burst like a soap bubble. Oh, how he'd imagined the exact way he'd tell her to leave: he'd abandon her on the river shore all alone while he would smile the biggest one the world had seen of him as he cackled victoriously and rowed downstream, keeping her belongings to himself to add further humiliation. Of course, that idea went up in smoke and he was left with frustration of having that dream chased away. He wasn't about to declare immediate friendship with her since his eagle vision didn't give him conclusive results and would put her on pending trust. . .carefully being scrutinized at all times. The entire thing gave him something to ponder over but he wouldn't do it with the bumbling woman next to him, informing Malik, "I will be back in a few minutes, keep an eye on her."

"I'm not a dog" she snapped with offense to being watched like a common criminal but watched him leave with a narrowed gaze befitting a tenacious canine on the defense. His footsteps mixed in with the crackle from the warm fire as he left and Malik offered an amicable shrug that told her to ignore the assassin's words.

* * *

_Location: Across the Nile from Cairo  
Time: Beats me but it's nighttime and frogs are chirping  
_

_Dear Mom,_

_I experienced my first day in the ancient Egyptian city of Cairo and witnessed the handmade statues of the pharaohs' right in the heart of the city. It was hard seeing the poverty during those turbulent times, especially when there are so many dangers by human or nature's hands to contend with too. I met my first Templars today and they are crafty at disguising their tracks but their time will come in 1307 when France turns against them and 1312 will bring their disbandment. On the other hand, there's so much historical change here in comparison to what my time has dictated and it worries me that I might not know enough or step on a strand of time and alter it to the point that I can damage time itself or Altaїr's path. He distrusts me like crazy and despite the logical part of me agrees due to the short weeks in each other's company cannot warrant such, my emotional side takes a hit as everything I do seems to push him farther away like one would a leper. I'm not asking that he suddenly declare undying friendship or that we become joined at the hip but a little civility would go far as we venture forth to Giza._

_. . . I miss home. I can't say it aloud for fear of sounding childish but I do. There are nights when I truly feel alone in this world and I realize that I am; there's nothing of who I am or my world in this place which is why I hope I find answers soon before my mind's tempted to go off the deep end. The crappy thing is there's no psychiatrist here so I'm screwed._

Vivian closed the personal diary of her adventures, naming it after her dear deceased mother to feel a bond that kept her tied to her own time and placed it inside her travel pack for safekeeping. The entire day had gone rather well, except for Altaїr's crankiness at the river and their recent camp quarrel, but that was normal on a regular basis and she had to grow to accept it. Life alongside the assassin would not be easy to live and was a task all on its own as he judged her with a critical eye. Vivian briefly wondered how many brownie points she'd receive when he saw her stab a Templar (not that she was ready to take a person's life, mind you) since beating one with a tambourine didn't count.

"I wish I could make Altaїr gingerbread men and tear off the limbs to feel better" she mumbled grumpily to her stroke of luck in life as she rubbed a red mosquito bite on her forearm. She'd received a few at the river's edge as they gathered around shallow pools and washing the rocks clean for their dinner had beat the risk of disease .The damn things itched like crazy with the slightest accidental graze and every time she saw one, hoped that it hadn't become infected with a pathogen. She grit her teeth as the ticklish sensation coursed towards her shoulder, beckoning her to surrender to frantic itching and she growled furiously, "Argh, I'm so itchy!"

Movement at the front of her tent paused her frantic rubbing of the bites and her eyes narrowed suspiciously since sunset had not brought in wind to their campsite. The night air had been calm and balmy with lingering humidity so she was right to be on guard, especially after watching so many horror movies and animal planet documentaries. She would've preferred a slasher to a hippo because then, she could warn Altaїr and hope he'd take pity to save her rather than letting them hack her to bits whereas a hippo would devour them all. When a head popped into view, she did the only thing a human driven by sudden adrenaline in their survival instinct would do: kick the unwelcome intruder in the face.

Unfortunately, the silent intruder was Altaїr.

"_Argh! _F-," a lot of curse words were yelled in an fuming flurry as the assassin held his painfully throbbing face since his nose took most of the damage. Vivian could only stare with wide eyes full of horror and dismay to what she'd done as she struggled on whether to help or let him take the first step in conversation. She was lucky that her footwear was a mere slipper made of cloth rather than tough leather like his boots which would've hurt him worse. Malik, who heard the commotion from his tent, had punched out of his role as babysitter for the day and idly sat on his sleeping blankets as he read a book by candlelight- completely ignoring the ruckus outside. To him, they were just another sound of the Nile River and its wilderness.

When Altaїr finally regained feeling in his face from the unforeseen attack and managed to calm his string of curses, he glared heatedly at Vivian as he punched a fist on the ground of her tent. If she wanted to attack him, he would stab her into resembling a needle cushion with his hidden blade and remarkable reflexes. She scooted a few inches towards the back of her tent as she dealt with a deadly tiger ready to strike and he demanded furiously, "Why would you kick me?"

"What kind of sane person pokes their head through a tent like Jack Nicholson in the Shining?" she shouted back from the sudden fright he'd given her poor heart and noticed his red nose. Jeez, the poor guy resembled Rudolph the reindeer already and felt guilty for reacting too quickly to his sudden appearance into her private abode (despite all she had inside were linen blankets and her travel pack). Her fingers twitched at tending to the bruise that would form on his hooded face and after nursing her little sister's boo-boo's, automatically offered her help, "Let me grab the health kit."

"I'm fine" he enforced grimly with refusal since the last thing he wanted was her touch because it would probably mutilate his face. . .not that he was vain or anything. The woman knew nothing about the medicine of his time and if she'd broken his nose (which he doubted), he'd set it right himself.

"You got kicked, in the _face_" she drawled slowly to emphasize what occurred and sighed to his stubborn nature to accept her aid. How could a great fighter like Altaїr refuse a lending hand when he needed one? The man had to reassess his 'dangerous/not dangerous' list because Vivian could hardly crush a bug (there were some pretty big ones in the wild in her defense) and she was on his side instead of the enemy's. Giving the fuming man a dry expression, she crossed her arms over her chest and sighed to remark softly, "Sometimes, I think you're deranged with the way you carry yourself. No wonder Desmond has crippling nightmares."

Altaїr didn't understand her futuristic (or just plain insane) gibberish and shouted sternly, "Who the hell is Desmond?"

The sudden raise in his voice marked the rare characteristic of the assassin losing his cool and silence ensued between both as Vivian kept mum on dear old Desmond, taking sudden fascination with a bite on her arm.

"Look, you obviously came for something so unless I foiled your attempt to assassinate me in bed, you better start talking" she spoke firmly since she wasn't in the mood for his brooding sass this late in the night (it was probably eight pm but whatever, the lack of artificial light made it midnight all the time). The possibility that he'd try to stab her during sleep wasn't enthralling either as she was rather keen on living until old age so he'd better have a good explanation for entering her sleeping area.

"I brought you this as a peace offering" he admitted offhandedly as he retrieved a hard treat made of honey from one of his leather pouches and her eyes became transfixed with her. Vivian's fingers itched to grab hold of the golden sweet as she hadn't tasted any kind of confection since arriving in Jerusalem but he pulled it away from her grasp at the last second. Altaїr's physical pain lessened when he watched her face fall at being denied and despite it caused him further twinges of discomfort, he smirked evilly to taunt his nemesis, "But since you kicked me in the face, I'm giving it to _myself _as medicine."

"You bastard" she muttered with resentment as he squashed her hopes yet again (he really was a good puppet master, wasn't he?) and crawled out of her tent by backtracking, leaving her to close her tent in a huff. Ugh, she could still see his mocking smirk as she closed the cloth flaps and grit her teeth to hold back a screech of curses she wanted to yell at him. Altaїr held his sore nose as he stood up to head to his own tent for the night and use his own medicine to help numb the pain as he could no longer smell very well through the swelling. He nibbled on the treat he'd intended to give to another and enjoyed it with his sense of taste as revenge did indeed taste sweet.

* * *

**A/N**: And we wrap up Cairo as they head closer to the piece of Eden but knowing that it took all of AC2 to find _one_, I can't make it too easy for the trio who lack decent technology. I offer apologies for the slight lateness but my stories were pushed back for more than a week as my city was hit with a scorching heat wave and my laptop wouldn't stop being a boiling oven so I had to give up. Luckily, this week brought in calm wind and thunderstorms in some areas but next week, we're warned it's going to be hot again so we'll see how that works into my writing schedule. I hate hot weather, it's just awful for writing and studying. Anyway, we'll start in Giza next time as Altaїr is forced to help a town in need and like any valiant hero, has Vivian play target practice for Templars.

Thank you for the continuous story alerts/favs as I appreciate each one and your reviews poke me to keep writing the story as I see that it's enjoyed.

_Kookie-douwh_: Yeah, Malik and Altaїr are quite patient with the rambunctious Vivian as she tries to backtrack through the centuries to appear normal but maintain her spicy dash of independence. The plot's already underway as they travel to locate and find the pieces of Eden within Africa but the hilarity seems to take the seriousness of that away as adventure lights their way (or ripping robes for Vivian and getting kicked in the face for Altaїr). I went into run-on sentences as I keep trying to be as descriptive as possible to increase my writing skills but did a big no-no in the end. It's been fixed into shorter, straight forward sentences in this one as my brain was knocked into place. And I don't mind rambly reviews, dear reader.

_Flyingcrispi_: Being a common person like us, we'd be useless in ancient times and Vivian tries her best to find _something_ to prove otherwise. Of course, with her geeky little mind, she'll cook up distractions that don't include life threatening situations. Malik needs his love so as they travel, Vivian will basically try to match him to any beautiful woman she can find. Altaїr's as human as the rest of us, just with a few spiffy abilities that we envy, but he bleeds and feels like everybody- especially when kicked in the face.

_Bearybeary_: Unfortunately, I don't think there is any hope for that voice of hers.

_Foreverafter_: Thanks for loving the story, I try my best to come up with unique ideas that bring in humor.

_shadowelf144_: You're very welcome and poor Vivian does try her best to gain favor with Altaїr like any main character would in an RPG game with neutral followers. Lol.

_AnimeWolfAlienRaptor4_: Vivian's twenty-one as Malik's the oldest despite sharing the same year with Altaїr. Ubisoft should really use Malik in the game whenever Altaїr's running around doing assassin stuff, I liked seeing him lecture Altaїr.

_IpiRayan_: Wherever Altaїr roams, Malik will have to tag along to make sure he doesn't get himself killed- especially with Vivian riling him into spats. Vivian can't handle any kind of smoking, choosing to rather hack it in Altaїr's poor face.

_Alyssa_: I love hearing that my stories don't suck (hehe) and I try to update as much as I can but I tend to write long chapters which is my downfall. Unfortunately, my city's having blistering heat and it's dampened everything relating to my laptop- even my studies took a hit. You're right on building the romance, I don't like it happening too sudden as it's a gradual change filled with bumps just like life and with Altaїr. . .well, the man's a tough nut that needs cracking but Vivian will be the little squirrel that takes her time to cleanly cut it open. Thanks again for the review.

_xoxo Lucifer's Daughter_: Yeah, little crazy Vivian brings excitement with her subtle ramblings without bordering on Sue-dom.

* * *

**Next Time**:

Late noon had brought the wandering trio deep into the lush wild of Giza's outskirts in the search to find civilization, whether it was a village or the city itself. It wasn't as easy to find as Cairo where the city practically waved to them from afar in welcome and Altaїr had the nagging suspicion that they landed a little south of the location. It was confirmed during morning when Vivian checked the compass as they had hidden their canoe in a safe place not too far from their concealed campsite before walking to find people. Frankly, Vivian didn't know if they'd find the same area of camp since tying a red sash around the trunk of a tree and placing a fallen log near shore didn't exactly give them the pinpointing precision of a GPS navigator.

The empty lush jungle landscape twittered with buzzing insects and singing birds but the sound of grass crunching under heavy feet from the trio joined in. Malik was already drenched in sweat from the high humidity in the area while Altaїr swatted insects that wanted to land on his face as he kept hiking with the unrelenting determination fit for a Terminator. Vivian could only scuttle on behind the men, sometimes forcing herself to waddle to manage balancing her large pack since Altaїr decided to fill all of her canteens and make her carry them all. She assumed this was his way of payback for what occurred between them yesterday night when she kicked his face in. It was a miracle handed by the gaming gods that he didn't unleash his wrath upon the poor woman but Vivian wouldn't complain.

_"Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place  
Where the caravan camels roam  
Where it's flat and immense  
And the heat is intense  
It's barbaric, but hey, it's home_

_When the wind's from the east_  
_And the sun's from the west_  
_And the sand in the glass is right_  
_Come on down_  
_Stop on by_  
_Hop a carpet and fly_  
_To another Arabian night. . ."  
_

Vivian's arms spread wide as she kept singing the rest of the Disney melody with cheer,

_"Arabian nights_  
_Like Arabian days_  
_More often than not_  
_Are hotter than hot_  
_In a lot of good ways_  
_Arabian nights_  
_'Neath Arabian moons-"_

"What are you singing now?" Altaїr sighed exasperatedly to her annoying out of the blue tunes as the humidity in the air covered him in a blanket of endless heat that had now drenched his face with perspiration.


	12. Freedom Fighters

**Freedom Fighters  
**

* * *

Late noon had brought the wandering trio deep into the lush wild of Giza's outskirts in the search to find civilization, whether it was a quaint village or the bustling city itself. It wasn't as easy to find as Cairo, where the city had practically waved to them from afar in welcome, and Altaїr had the nagging suspicion that they landed a little south of the location. It was confirmed that very morning when Vivian checked the compass after they hid their canoe in a safe place not too far from their concealed campsite before walking onwards to find people. Frankly, Vivian didn't know if they'd find the same area of their concealed camp since tying a red sash around the trunk of a tree and placing a fallen log near shore didn't exactly give them the pinpointing precision of a GPS navigator on a marked location.

The empty lush jungle landscape twittered with buzzing insects and singing birds but the sound of grass crunching under heavy feet from the trio joined the melody. Malik was already drenched in sweat from the high humidity in the area while Altaїr swatted insects that wanted to land on his face as he kept hiking with the unrelenting determination fit for a Terminator. Vivian could only scuttle on behind the men, sometimes forcing herself to waddle to manage balancing her large pack since Altaїr decided to fill all of her canteens and made her carry them. She assumed this was his way of payback for what occurred between them yesterday night when she kicked his face in. It was a miracle handed down by the gaming gods that he didn't unleash his wrath upon the poor woman but Vivian wouldn't complain.

_"Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place  
Where the caravan camels roam  
Where it's flat and immense  
And the heat is intense  
It's barbaric, but hey, it's home_  
_  
When the wind's from the east  
And the sun's from the west  
And the sand in the glass is right  
Come on down  
Stop on by  
Hop a carpet and fly  
To another Arabian night. . ."  
_

Vivian's arms spread wide as she kept singing the rest of the Disney melody with cheer,

_"Arabian nights  
Like Arabian days  
More often than not  
Are hotter than hot  
In a lot of good ways_

_Arabian nights  
'Neath Arabian moons-"_

"What are you singing now? I'm rather fond of my hearing, Vivian" Altaїr sighed exasperatedly to her annoyingly constant out of the blue tunes. The humidity in the air covered him in a blanket of endless heat that had now drenched his face with perspiration and he had no tolerance for her screechy voice this early in the day. His homeland had a tendency to be hot throughout the early day but Egypt brought it to a new level with the Nile's close proximity and the land around it was lush with green vegetation for added humidity. The grand master would write about this to warn future assassins to travel light when venturing into the new land and would look into altering their garb for easier maneuverability as different environments required minute changes.

Vivian was too hot to shoot him a glare and abandoned any retort, her tongue lolling out of her mouth in similarity to a dog in the summer heat to see if it would help with temperature regulation. Of course, her attempt was in vain as her skin yearned to feel the soothing cold tendrils of an air conditioner. Giving up, she trudged along after the duo and answered with a heavy pant, "It's a song about a moving picture using sketched characters that tell the story of a peasant man trying to impress a sultan's daughter by using a jinn to make him a fake prince and become beloved by the people."

"Sounds interesting" Malik commented politely since her stories of fantasy were interesting to hear around the campfire when Altaїr's combat strategies became tedious. Her stories of varying genres of literature were a welcome time around nighttime because hearing how to cut an enemy's throat open without spilling blood didn't take Malik's mind away from his profession.

An assassin's life was filled with danger and adventure but everybody needed a pause from such a hectic life as they were flesh and blood like any human being. People often gazed at them with awe and fear but Malik had wants like a common man to relax in a green pasture overlooking a cliff and draw images of the world to his heart's content while worrying about nothing- especially the demands of the order. His little brother always spoke about traveling the Mediterranean and searching for legendary Greek mermaids for fun but Malik tried to protect him by keeping him in a safe environment where he could always keep watch. Kadar was no longer among the living and to honor his memory, he devoted his time to experiencing another life outside the Order where he could indulge in being an average man. . .and who knew, he might take that trip to search for the fabled mermaids.

Altaїr, on the other hand, was a tireless machine that breathed their creed but nobody knew that he was at peace sitting in a library and improving his knowledge. As a child born into the order, he learned only what was required of him (physical fitness, weapons handling, simple arithmetic for expenses, etc.) but he wasn't about to be an ignorant man when the opportunity to learn presented itself during his travels so he always picked up a few spare books to read and build his personal library. So far, only a single shelf was filled but by the end of his lifetime, it would grow to be an entire chamber dedicated to his experiences. Whoever tried to insult his fancy for the written word would be sprawled and broken on all fours in the courtyard as he instilled that education was a worthy skill to have. Al Mualim never taught them anything relating to the fields of science, arts, philosophy, or languages, but Altaїr would try to change that bit by bit.

"First of all, lying is not the way to impress a woman to court you" the master assassin stated derisively with a scoff towards the absurdity of such a story, especially if it was aimed towards children. If he ever had children (not that he was eager), he'd ban such horrible stories because he'd tell them to carve their own path with honesty and hard work. Wiping sweat from his brow, he wagged a reprimanding finger towards the woman without glancing back and continued matter-of-factly, "Second of all, jinn's are not nice beings to begin with."

"Oh, and you're the perfect man to give advice when you leave women on rooftops after bedding them" she shot back sarcastically since she wasn't the creator of Aladdin and Malik covered his mouth to laugh at the bold claim. Altaїr hadn't been vocal about his interactions with the ex-Templar but Vivian was privy to information Malik wouldn't have imagined and couldn't muffle his laughs when Altaїr shot her a murderous glare. Apparently, she'd been right on target. Vivian caught the furious scowl but didn't appear affected by it, simply trudging through the grassy fields with her small careful steps as she smiled innocently with hidden mischief, "We have a word for that in my world: Jerks with intimacy issues."

Altaїr's hand shot out to grasp her by the neck but the sweat gathered on the nape allowed her to slide through with ease before he could begin to choke her. Vivian deemed herself extremely lucky when she wriggled free and Malik laughed to her resemblance to an eel in water as she escaped his friend. She cackled triumphantly like the Roadrunner, running off ahead towards safety with her overly large pack (she looked like a miniature tortoise to the dai at this point) and heard the clanking of cooking pots as they dangled off the sides. Hadn't he told her to pack them inside along the cloth of the knapsack in order to fend off enemy weapons? Malik simply shook his head to the lively entertainment Vivian brought with her behavior alone and uncorked his canteen to take a sip of the cold water, turning to his friend to ask, "Do you find it eerie that she knows almost everything about you?"

"A bit but at the moment, I wish she could read my mind so she could see what I want to do to her" he stated grimly and contemplated knocking her out but the area was too hot for him to carry her, especially without being near their location. He would have to endure her crazy gibberish as the ongoing humidity drove a strong bargain. . .but he could still fantasize about knocking her out cold. He could add a kick or two to her rear end as nothing was impossible in the land of make believe- there were times when he truly thought her mind dwelled there.

Vivian swiped at the hot air driving her insane, hoping to drive away her invisible nemesis, but was felled as she exhausted her energy reserves. She panted heavily as she wiped her damp forehead with the back of her hands, exclaiming with aggravation, "Damn, it's like being Naked Snake in the jungle of Metal Gear 3 all over again mixed in with the lush Amazon. Ugh, throw in a bunch of Helghast and we have Vekta in Killzone 1."

Malik stared blankly with baffled confusion to what she'd just rambled but Altaїr shook his head with a 'don't' clearly evident on his face. It was best to let her unfathomable babbles be rather than risk paralyzing confusion at her hands by asking about it.

Vivian adjusted the heavy pack over her shoulders as rotten luck kept her water canteen out of reach behind her waist and groaned miserably, "If you give me a Helghast shock trooper- Killzone 2 version, _not_ 1- to keep and Garrus Vakarian, I'll stay here without complaint. Heck, I'll lick Altaїr's boot and call it candy!"

This grabbed the assassin's attention immediately and he grasped Malik by the shoulders before the other could dodge, his black eyes blinking with unease when Altaїr demanded hastily, "Quickly, what are those things?"

The other man could only shrug since he honestly didn't know what her chatter was about (asking only worsened his logic) and Altaїr growled with irritation to accuse, "You're the only one who cares to listen to her prattle."

Malik shot him a dry expression for the subtle insult but Altaїr missed the offended glance as his attention was caught by another of Vivian's tunes,

"_Adventure time,  
C'mon, grab your friends  
We'll go to very distant lands  
With __Altaїr__ the assassin  
Malik the dai  
And Vivian the gamer  
The fun will never end  
It's adventure time!_

_We'll help the needy_  
_and beat the greedy_  
_Kill a few Templars_  
_And hide among the scholars_  
_We're traveling from the Nile_  
_All the way to the Canary Islands_  
_Exploration that's worthwhile_  
_Forever forming merry bonds_  
_We'll be great partners in crime_

_C'mon, it's adventure time!"_

Altaїr shook his hooded head miserably and thought distastefully_, Dear heavens, she can't even rhyme!  
_

A dark shadow shot out from the bushes to her left and Vivian automatically grabbed a hand full of her pocket sand, effectively throwing it into the assailant's eyes. Her defense worked and the stranger fell to the ground to wipe at their blinded eyes as Vivian quickly scrambled back to her two friends as they'd caught the commotion. Altaїr was about to warn her to never turn her back on an enemy but stopped himself from unleashing the lecture when she bounded up to them safe and sound with her clanking pans. Smiling triumphantly to her first successful defense, she pointed to the fallen person and told them with an exuberantly proud face, "Look, I got one! I got one!"

"Vivian, act your age" Altaїr lectured listlessly after he'd learned women of her era didn't share the same milestones in life or mindset of his since her culture raised her to be independent. The woman behaved similarly to an adolescent in his era and at that age, young women were usually preparing for marriage but the woman traveling with him had scoffed to the idea at her age of twenty-one. Her exact words during that specific conversation at camp had been 'you try to put a baby in my belly and an imprisonment band on my finger and I'll kick you all the way to Antarctica to sleep with penguins'. Needless to say, he ended the conversation when he'd become lost in the translation.

The newcomer was a modestly dressed adolescent, barely past 13 years of age, and she smacked the blinded boy's lower leg with her handy walking stick to scold matter-of-factly, "Don't you know better than to sneak up on people ranting about awesome aliens? The indignity!"

Altaїr shoved her out of the way without a care, ignoring her indignant protest of 'hey', and grabbed the boy by the back of his brown linen shirt to lift him onto his feet in one movement. Vivian sighed in dismay as he turned into the unrelenting 'terminator-interrogator' mode as she called it and he leaned down to meet the boy's eye level to demand sharply, "Where you following us?"

The boy was frightened instantly by the intimidating man as he kept wiping his eyes free of sand and Vivian decided to give the kid the benefit of the doubt since little ragamuffin thieves were common as they tried to survive. That, and being interrogated by the assassin was not a joyful experience to remember- she knew that firsthand. Altaїr, however, was relentless in his glaring power and an Egyptian accented voice left the boy's lips as he replied fearfully, "No, I heard her song about saving people. . .so I thought she could help me."

Vivian had been ready to smack Altair's butt with the end of her stick for being thrown carelessly aside but changed her mind, stepping up to both with a silly grin to preen, "See, I told you my songs would entertain and help people. We're practically the new A-Team."

"We're not here to help people, we have priorities" the other man growled stiffly to her interruption since he was leader of their trio and wouldn't allow her idiotic suggestions to sway the journey. Their priority was to enter Giza and stop the Templars before they discovered the piece of Eden which meant they would forgo lesser matters as they sought a more important goal. He wouldn't have minded helping those in need but times were becoming incredibly dangerous as the Templars were quietly regrouping and receiving new orders which kept Altaїr tense on his feet. It's not that he wanted to abandon civilians but had to make the hard decisions that would benefit humanity as a whole rather than a small group.

"Then what kind of an order are you?" she snapped harshly to his answer and swatted him away, hurling the two into a heated argument of morals vs objectivity. She understood the necessity to hasten their travel but they couldn't abandon the helpless who sought them with a 'sorry pal, you're on your own because we have more important things going on'. She could barely do that to fake characters in video games, much less real people! When her mother was alive, she stressed about the gift of volunteering and helping others as Vivian had happily followed in her footsteps. She continued the work throughout her life and it gave her that thirst for history as she met numerous people and places with diverse pasts, guiding her path as an adult. Her background conflicted greatly with Altaїr's orders but she had no leverage against him since her survival depended on him and if she left him she wouldn't last two days on her own. Either way, her mother didn't raise her to be a quitter so she'd argue until her last point was refuted.

As the two ensued in argument, Malik took control of the situation by putting himself between the boy and his friends. The newcomer was dressed like any child of a farming family, humble but simple, but there was fear in the boy's brown eyes which told the dai that something was wrong (aside from watching two people fight like cats). He grabbed a cloth from his robe's pocket and dampened it with water from his canteen, handing it over to the boy so he could wipe his eyes free of Vivian's 'pocket sand' as he asked smoothly, "So, tell me what troubles you, um. . .?"

Malik motioned with his hand for a name and the boy replied, "I am Amil."

"My village has seen the arrival of masked men who claim to be under Saladin's orders to head to Giza but they are unlike any I've seen" the boy explained worriedly as he told his story and Malik nodded for him to continue, blocking the feuding duo in the background before the boy had second thoughts. If they continued on this path, nobody would take them seriously and Malik contemplated undergoing surveillance on his own since it worked perfectly in Cairo. It was strange that his two friends worked splendidly during investigations, keeping levelheaded throughout its entirety but outside a tense environment, they were ripping into each other like wild tigers. Altaїr, who had Vivian by the hair while she had him by the nose, released her from his grip to go listen to the interesting tale as 'masked men' caught his intrigue.

Vivian scuttled after him to join the investigation but he blocked her path completely, mimicking her steps to keep her in the dark and out of his way. Her weak fists striking his back did nothing to move the granite wall that was Altaїr and she was forced to peek over his shoulder as he blocked her from joining his side (it took strong willpower to keep a smirk from surfacing on his lips). Jiggling his leather belt did nothing for Vivian and she groaned miserably, forced to hear Amil's story from behind all of them, "They demand answers about the city's pyramids further inland but they should know about them if they truly are Egyptian born. Everybody knows where they are. They have the village under lock until they have their answers and control the trade route so we cannot seek help without alerting them. It has been very hard for us as we depend on traveling to the city to trade our harvests and sell."

"So how did you escape?" Altaїr questioned suspiciously as he'd been trained to analyze every piece of information until nothing was left and the boy recoiled from fear at the intensity of the imposing man. Malik made a mental note to speak to him about his interrogations with children as they needed a lighter and charismatic hand, two qualities the assassin lacked.

Vivian swatted him aside when she managed to squeeze under his arm before he could push her back and he grit his teeth when she popped in with the annoyance of a starving gopher. He wasn't about to make room for the continuous thorn in his side but she beat him to the punch line when she warned with a small frown, "Nice job on scaring him, pal. Let a woman handle this."

"Well, when you see one, inform me" the assassin shot back smugly since things were done _his_ way and wouldn't hesitate to put the woman in her place by using all verbal ammunition available to him. Her green eyes narrowed into tiny slits for having her femininity mocked again, boiling with hidden rage in her spot and Altaїr smirked cockily at knowing she couldn't cause a dent in him. The woman held no real physical power in her strikes whenever she retaliated to his verbal jabs and he took full advantage of it to squish her tiny powerless ego under his own formidable thumb. He wanted to make her docile like an old fat cat that only obeyed its master and sneered smugly as he dealt the knockout punch, "Look at you, all bark and no bite."

Altaїr didn't see Vivian's index finger until it poked him straight in the right eye.

"_OW!_ What the- you stabbed my eye!"

The master assassin protected his eyes instantly with both hands as he hoped the shrew hadn't blinded him with her bony finger and Vivian merely watched him howl with mild interest. Inwardly, her ego was leading a conga line for finally having the courage to do something against his rudeness as he swiped his eye like a wounded alpha wolf. Nonetheless, she found it hilarious because she'd barely touched his eye to begin with as she'd focused on his upper eyelid but Altaїr tended to be a little dramatic sometimes in order to get Malik on his side. Amil paused his tale as he stared with bewilderment at the two but Malik coughed into his hand with emphasis that he ignore his insane companions and continue.

"I took one of their horses while the man peed in the bushes" the boy answered with a meek smile that had Vivian laughing to his craftiness as it sounded exactly like something she'd do. Malik nodded silently as he agreed that the kid was courageous enough to face danger despite dire consequences while Altaїr. . .well, all he wanted was his full sight back in his right eye.

Vivian grinned slyly and rubbed her hands together like a pesky imp, looking to Malik as she complimented, "Oh, I like him."

Amil looked to them with hope in his tired eyes, seeking their help despite he had nothing to offer in payment and pleaded softly, "All I want is for them to leave us alone, we don't want any trouble. I can't pay you anything but I'm sure my father can spare loaves of bread or cheese if you are short on food supplies," he rubbed one eye sloppily as tears threatened to spill and added in, "Any help on your part would be appreciated because I have nowhere else to go, my life has always been bound to my village."

Malik and Vivian were swayed to help a village plagued with possible Templars since the details were interesting enough to warrant an investigation. Both their gazes turned to Altaїr with a sympathetic twinkle since he was the team leader and with his new democratic way of approaching decisions, knew he was officially screwed.

"All right, we'll help you but you must have your village leader spread the news that they are truly Richard's men sent here to infiltrate and conquer your lands under disguise" Altaїr finally agreed with a gruff tone in his voice as this new venture was not in his route and took the lead by finding a quick stop where they could begin planning their new journey.

* * *

"So, everyone understands the infiltration plan?"

A nod from all members satisfied him and he left to prepare his strategy for all outcomes during battle because mistakes were bound to happen. Assassins were usually solitary workers due to the precise calculations made that depended solely on him but Altaїr was now working with a group and had to make sure everyone made it out safely. The last group he was in charge of was at Solomon's temple and Kadar's life had been the cost; this time, he would not lose another team member due to his own egotistical blindness.

So far, Vivian would approach the main route to the village with the boy to gain entrance since she could use her female charms (Altaїr hoped the Templars were stupid enough to fall for them since she was pretty much awful). He and Malik would sneak inside from the western border as the small village would warrant most of the attention to the front with Vivian's sudden arrival. Once his companion was safely inside with the guise of being an innocent traveler, they would meet in Amil's barn to begin planning for the takeover since the buildings and roads had to be studied firsthand in order to lead a successful attack. Altaїr hoped he hadn't become too rusty with his lack of decent battles as water travel was all he'd done but keeping his body fit was entirely different from maintaining the sharpness of his skills.

A poke to his back by Vivian's stick tore him away from his ruminations and he narrowed his eyes to her intrusive behavior. Couldn't she simply have called his name rather than jabbing him like a dead animal carcass? He didn't have time to read her confounding mind and guess what psychological damage she wanted to inflict his brain with, his teeth baring in the sunlight as he demanded brusquely, "What do you want? And put that stick away before I snap it!"

She jumped back from his gruff tone, her eyes widening slightly for a moment as she was taken aback by his attitude but recovered quickly. If he wanted to keep acting in such a rude manner, she would part ways with him on neutral terms until he behaved more civilly and simply answered aloofly, "I just wanted to thank you for choosing to help the village. That's all."

Vivian scampered off by using the boy's brown horse to block her route and found refuge against the trunk of a small tree, leaning against it for support as her legs suddenly felt weak. The idea of going into battle was not appealing in her mind as the thought of taking someone's life or having someone take hers frightened her. She wasn't a soldier of her time that could lend the assassins a pretty good hand in a fight to gain the upper hand but a historian in training. What could she do, whack a Templar with her walking stick or hurl journals at them? The new situation she was walking straight into wasn't to be taken lightly and carried grave consequences if she didn't act fast enough.

Malik had been observing her cold feet for the mission with a keen eye since the start of their planning phase and left the young boy to tend to the stolen horse as he casually strolled over to Altaїr. The dai needed to find a bridge of coexistence between them as they refused to find common ground and having the experienced assassin teach her how to survive a battle was a good start. His friend was in deep thought as he stood in the center of the clearing, gazing at the clear blue sky as a form of quick meditation and Malik's calm voice didn't bother Altaїr when he spoke up, "I want you to keep this between us: Vivian is definitely afraid of facing Templars."

"She should be, that little-" Altaїr retorted quickly to the petite spitfire of a woman but Malik shot him a glance that ordered him to cool his hotheadedness. Why did he have to mellow out his anger when she had a free pass for full reign? The thought of the dark-haired woman broke him away from his calm state of mind and cursed the green eyed vixen that had been bound to him during his travels.

"You must remember that she is a civilian so I'm asking you as a friend to help her through this" Malik requested simply to halt an oncoming rant as he watched the woman strike the air with her walking stick in an attempt to push away an invisible foe. He didn't know what armor or strength in numbers their enemies would have so they would need Vivian to stay sharp for both her safety and theirs. She was a child in their world, adapting to their customs as quickly as she could to avoid becoming a burden and throwing her into battle was not the way to achieve that. When he watched the stick fall as her hand outstretched too far and reaching for it caused her to fall forward onto the grass a second later, the side of Malik's lips threatened to grimace to the sight and he added in hastily, "Correction: Do this as a favor."

Altaїr muffled a disgruntled groan in his throat for what he was being asked to do since watching Vivian brush off grass from her robes and reach for her useless stick didn't interest him in the slightest. If anything, it would irritate him to a whole new level that had been previously undiscovered. The master assassin had better tasks to take care of, more of a strategic nature, and crossed his arms to question miserably with demand, "Why me? Why can't you-"

"You're awful with children and I'd fear you'd tear that child in half if he disobeyed" Malik stated wittily with a small smirk towards his recent attitude with the boy as his social skills needed a little tweaking. So he wasn't the best person with children, did that mean he'd fare better with Vivian? The little spitfire woman had the energy of three combined children and speaking to her only drove him mad for freedom from her jabber.

"I keep telling you that I'm working on it" Altaїr defended stiffly as he didn't like having his unfavorable traits pointed out and rubbed his hands over his face to reenergize himself. Working with Vivian took a lot of effort already and he didn't want to accidentally stab her during a lesson because then, Malik would yell at him for all eternity. She was a little irking stain on his robes that didn't wash off regardless of what he tried and kept increasing in diameter with each scrub. Cracking his knuckles to prepare himself, he turned to Malik with a firm expression but wryly stated with eerie calm, "All right, but if she dies, I will not be blamed nor will I help to dig her shallow grave. She is your pet-"

"_Friend-"_

"So you will carry that responsibility" Altaїr finished evenly without pause as he assumed the caretaker role for his group while Malik would be the owner of the little wombat known as Vivian. Of course, if she did happen to die, he would be kind enough to bury the poor woman but at the moment, irritated emotions won over his voice.

Malik was about to cuss his head off for practically being called a slave owner but Altaїr made a speedy escape towards safety- if he could even call it that- as the lesser of two evils laid with Vivian. The time traveling woman continued jabbing at the air with her utterly useless stick in the hopes of becoming better at wielding and Altaїr was certain that he could've broken it with a mere twist of his hand. His silent footsteps failed to catch her attention as he approached and lazily watched her sloppy movements to critique each one, failing her in all areas without hesitation. He stood behind her without uttering a single word about her atrocious skills until she twisted to the side, bringing her walking stick in a downward arc on his left shoulder and. . .

He wrenched it free of her grasp with one sharp tug and stated listlessly with dull honey eyes that contrasted against his firm expression, "Your foolishness knows no bounds if you think this will do anything."

"You might not know this but in my time, killing someone has you jailed for life" she pointed out nervously with the laws of her time and nibbled on her bottom lip to pent out the queasiness filling her stomach. As a modern day civilian, Vivian experienced no violence in her life nor did she partake in such behaviors which brought a moral dilemma to her in this new situation. Her unofficial boss had a full time job of assassinating people without hesitation which didn't comfort her since explaining her futuristic life would have him turning a deaf ear. Altaїr wasn't the type to stay and listen to ramblings, opting for the more direct and no nonsense route that Vivian had yet to grasp in order to gain his full attention. Nonetheless, she poked the ground with her stick with a sheepish expression on her face and admitted meekly, "I'm not much of a fighter, you just about saw the best I could do and half of the time I almost knocked myself out."

She shook her head slowly as the idea of charging into battle frightened her and she sighed with both dread and embarrassment flooding her, "I don't know if I have it in me to kill somebody. Yes, I played your game and annihilated people but it was different- totally fake and all of the pain going to you."

His eyes narrowed into slits for her small slip of admission because he wasn't keen (or very accepting) of the fact that his life was a form of entertainment for others since he risked his life every day. Vivian saw the burning fire in his gaze as he towered over her and she withered in her spot for being one of his many fans, hugging her walking stick in case she'd need it as a sudden shield. She flashed him a sweetly innocent smile, which he didn't buy for a second, as she tried to add minutes to her meager little life and corrected herself quickly by rambling, "Not that it was intentional, you would _hug_ the wall rather than climb and- forget it, this isn't about your failure to listen to my controller. I guess what I'm trying to say is. . .I'm scared about this."

Vivian abhorred herself for having the appearance of a tiny chipmunk with an injured ankle as she pleaded with the living weapon that was Altaїr. She expected to be slapped upside the head for lacking fearless valor since the man literally leapt from towering buildings without a second thought about his own mortality and fixed her gaze to the ground with shame for being weak. It wasn't something that could be helped, her lifestyle lacked the necessity of skewering enemies that threatened her survival until this point in her life. The idea of having fresh crimson blood on her fingers from either enemies or herself wasn't appealing because in the most probably outcome, she'd be the one bleeding to death without a doctor nearby. Instead of being chastised, Altaїr offered simple words of comfort to ease her fears, "Have faith."

He wasn't a man of big words and since they weren't on the friendliest of terms, this was the most he could offer.

"That's it? I don't think having those words written on my forehead will magically change their minds from brutally murdering me" she blurted sarcastically to his little piece of advice and glanced down at her stick with skepticism because she knew the thing wouldn't help her out of a jam instantaneously. He curled his upper lip for having his words thrown aside by the petite woman and counted the ways he could embarrass her inside the unknown village for revenge; nobody said being a laughing stock wouldn't gain the Templars attention. Vivian was lost to the madman glint in his eyes that was hidden under his hood as she unknowingly poked the sleeping bear and stabbed the dirt with the flat end of her walking stick to contemplate flatly, "And I highly doubt this will do anything. At the most, it will probably break on them and they'll jam the jagged end into my torso. . .and then I can tell you 'I told you so' when I'm bleeding to death."

"You finally realize that you need a weapon?" he questioned wryly since traveling civilians never wandered without a weapon for protection against thieves or wild animals. It was essential that she learn to defend herself since events would arise that could call both he and Malik away while leaving her vulnerable against dangers. Since Malik had now grown attached to the little critter known as Vivian, it fell on Altaїr's shoulders to keep her alive despite his innermost desire was to sew her mouth shut. Of course, that would be downright inhumane so he resolved to use a frigid glare to impose his authority and bypass the innocent glitter in her eyes that sought a sympathy vote and lectured her firmly, "Holding one in your hands will eventually bring bloodshed. A weapon is neither a toy nor decorative, it's an instrument of battle to hold the key between life and death. It can either be used to protect you or against you if you lack decent skill."

Vivian shuffled her feet nervously as she fidgeted with the bloodshed idea because having her blood pressure drop at the mere sight of it and fainting would not impress the assassin. If anything, he'd add in a kick to her fallen body himself before jabbing her with his sharp fingers to wake up. Gnawing on her bottom lip, her nervous gaze flickered between his stern face and the ground as she admitted softly about her passive nature, "I don't want to kill, just knock them out for hours."

"We don't spare Templars" he hissed detestably about their greatest enemy since he'd throw them all off from the world's highest cliff if he could. She gave him a knowing look about a certain Templar he'd encountered multiple times and his visit to Cyprus, her lightly arched brows wagging in sly emphasis. Altaїr immediately hated the fact that she knew too much about his life, public and private, than he would've liked and prayed that she kept her mouth shut to prolong longevity. The furious scowl he sent didn't deter her cheeky insinuations as she leaned on the walking stick with an impish smile, observing each minute reaction, and he growled heatedly, "That's different."

"Who knows? I might change their minds to see the light side of the Force with a few whacks to the head or by showing my pretty little leg" she suggested with a noncommittal shrug but the subtle witty smile remained on her lips as it served the purpose of a defense mechanism. She'd already outraged him when she showed her legs innocently within the canoe and if she could stir the same reaction from their enemies, it could give her time to escape to safety like a crafty mouse. If she could trade a sharp weapon fit for death with a silly little jig bearing a naked leg, Vivian would take it in a millisecond.

He didn't find her proposal appealing, not even bothering to acknowledge her foolish utterings as he pointed across the field to command simply, "I'm going to teach you a few defensive maneuvers so you don't end up speared before we arrive. Don't test my patience or I will throw you at the Templars myself."

She frowned with offense to his threat as she found herself stuck with the lesser of two evils and briefly wondered if poking out his other eye would have him showing her a miniscule speck of respect. He stood impassively with his arms crossed as his menacing aura practically ordered her to move her butt to said location and she mumbled sarcastically with a frown, "Wow, I can feel the compassionate love just radiating through you. You sure it wasn't Maria that left _you_ on that rooftop after she realized that your only facial expression in life was that blood-freezing stare?"

Malik could only sigh dismally from his spot in camp when he spotted Altaїr chasing Vivian with his hidden blade unsheathed, watching his friend run with the ferocity of a wolf while she scrambled like a frightened rabbit. This was not what the dai had implied when he sent Altaїr to help and rubbed his forehead in irritation as he became a spectator to the peculiar hunt between predator and prey. He'd never seen his friend chase down his ally target with such motivation, not even the students at Masyaf, and admonished loudly to bring an immediate halt to it, "You're supposed to show her defensive moves, not assault her!"

"These _are_ my teaching methods" Altaїr called back gruffly as Vivian ran past Malik with a frightened squeak and the assassin followed in close quarter as they circled the clearing. Altaїr dodged Malik's grasp when he zoomed past with the speed of a white blur and added in breathlessly as his voice began to fade with the growing distance, "Take it or leave it!"

Malik _really_ should've taken that solitary boat trip across the Mediterranean Sea.

* * *

**A/N**: The update was late this time due to a nasty cold I gained after enduring cold rain and a frigid classroom with no heat so I had to get better in order to bring on good hilarity (pack-rat/human turtle Vivian did the trick for me). The three companions will confront Templars in the next chapter as the small area should give our favorite assassin a good warm-up fight while Vivian tries to figure out how to survive.

_Flyingcrispi_: Yeah, despite the comedy, Vivian's still a human being with fears while Altaїr remains an undaunted robot that wants to fling her into a nearby lake. The idea of having Altaїr run back and forth like a madman for her came from having Ezio run that way every time I saw a thief because I was piss poor in the beginning and needed all the money possible to buy stuff.

_Bearybeary_: Nope, whatever's old or new for Vivian will be entirely new to the duo for their enjoyment.

_Water-Sirene_: Very true, Altaїr is still human despite his gravity defying awesomeness.

_Linda Chicana_: He will stumble upon her diary because we all know he's the best at investigation so we have a little detective Altaїr on our hands. As for understanding him, she'll have to be in his little circle of trust before he starts giving out information to sunnier sides of his personality. It'll be worth the wait for our clumsy Vivian.

_janit3443_: Thanks so much for the lovely review, I'm glad you can relate to our crazy Vivian as she wanders her new world with Altaїr and Malik. I've loved history since junior high ages ago and my first year in college years ago but would love to take another class if my current major would let it. There's so much individual history relating to ancestors as well as humankind itself which is why I put Vivian into the major because she'd fit flawlessly with Altaїr who's trying to find his own place in the world and what his own path in life will be.

_Lizzy1809_: Thanks for liking the story.

_Foreverafter_: Sweet, I'm a heroine in writing. Thanks for loving the 'kicked in the face' bit but Altaїr was still seething about it the next morning as we could see. But really, popping in without an announcement? That crazy assassin. As for Malik, his babysitter hours are from morning till dinner and then he clocks out of work until the next morning. . .completely disregarding whatever the two will get into between those off-hours.

* * *

**Next Time:**

Straightening her posture and puffing out her chest to display dominance, she strolled forward with a confident gait until the Templars were forced to pay her attention. Women weren't seen as much during this era and Vivian's normal independence fit for women in twenty-first century America would send them into an uproar.

With a big smile plastered on her oval face, she greeted cheerfully, "Hello there, is this where I sign up to be a Templar?"

The second the word flew out of her mouth, she was seized by the arms and dragged inside the dimly lit main room but she didn't struggle for a second. She was there to play a sweet ditsy persona, looking to each of her captors as they pinned her arms behind her back and piped up excitedly, "Awesome, I'm being abducted and I'm totally okay with it because it shows just how much you love your fellow man."

"Quiet, wench," ordered buffoon number one at her left and she resisted from stomping his booted foot with her own to make him eat his words.

"Hey, I want to be part of your group" she insisted with an innocently gentle voice but she was thrown on the floor callously, her butt impacting on the limestone floor which caused her to bite back a painful groan. She wouldn't give them any gloating power by admitting pain but rubbed the small of her back as she found herself in the center of the group, dwarfed by the walking trash compactors. The normal fear that bit at her mind to stop luring them into a dangerous zone was disregarded as she smiled brightly to admit, "I even made a theme song about it."

Altaїr sent his best weapon into the hideout when Vivian unleashed her off-key singing,

_"Who controls the British crown?  
Who keeps the Assassin's Order down?  
We do, we do  
Who keeps Atlantis off the maps?  
Who keeps the artifacts under wraps?  
We do, we do  
Who holds back the horse-drawn carriage?  
Who's the team that wins with damn best courage?  
We do, we do_


	13. I Wish For A Silver Tongue

**I Wish For A Silver Tongue  
**

* * *

A sweaty Vivian with a frown, a bored brown horse (who happily chewed on a carrot she'd found in its carrying sack), and a nervous Amil walked up the carved road path towards the remote village in the Nile River outskirts. Altaїr and Malik followed them closely from the left as the forest aided in shrouding their presence, giving them the advantage in entering the village via the foliage rather than finding a hay wagon to hitch a ride onto. Altaїr didn't mind the smell of hay as it played a perfect role in concealment but Malik couldn't handle the smell for too long as he preferred using the shadows; either way, they would always choose the open outdoors to gain entrance into a settlement.

Vivian wiped the back of her hand over her sweaty forehead, using the hood of her robes to conceal her unbrushed hair and a few inches of her face in case anybody in the Templar order was a good sketch artist. If they decided to put up 'wanted' posters and distribute scrolls throughout Giza, she wanted to mimic Ezio's handsome trademark look or a cool Jedi face rather than resemble a frazzled crazy woman suffering a bad hair day. She didn't know how the assassins managed to look ruggedly alluring despite being centuries old for modern conveniences that would've had them plastered all over fashion ads in her time. Vivian was deciding on creating a new persona for the road where she'd play the loyal shoe shiner to two handsome carpet merchants because let's face it, her current appearance was far from what it used to be with the current lack of daily makeup and showers. Oh, how she lamented them- even worse than when Dumbledore died off in the story books.

She was called to attention when she spotted two Templars standing guard at the wooden gate entrance, their imposing figures causing her to tighten her hands around the reins of the horse. Their garb remained a neutral gray to fool the lands they visited, their malicious plots hidden under their metal frames and Vivian couldn't help but feel the menacing aura in the area when one of the men called out, "State your business."

"I'm a traveler heading to Memphis and met my small cousin south of here on a horse he had to take to find me because apparently, you newcomers seem to think you own the place" she stated calmly with fake niceties but mischief was hidden in her eyes as she flashed them a friendly smile. She'd added a hasty hitch in her voice because keeping their attention solely on her to the point of irritation with her ramblings would allow for her companions to move into action. While keeping their attention with her explanation, the men failed to see the two assassins slipping into the village through the southwestern wooden fence as the large shrubs and mooing cows concealed their presence into the village. Even Vivian failed to see anything from her spot as she batted her eyelashes for feminine effect.

Unfortunately, Templars were immune to feminine charms and the one to her left flatly informed her with an authoritative voice, "We're here on behalf of Saladin under strict classified orders."

_Sure, and I have the awesome wizarding powers of Gandalf_, she thought sarcastically as she fought the wry laugh that threatened to spill out of her mouth.

"Goodie for you but I need to see my family" she dismissed casually as she played the innocent card and tried to enter with a lazy swagger but they blocked the way with their heavy builds. She had half a mind to order the horse to kick them in the side of the head but that would result in immediate expulsion and a fight on top of it all. No, she needed to keep levelheaded in this situation because her enemies were not to be trifled with. . .and pissing off Altaїr was not a good prospect either.

Feigning ignorance didn't seem to be working for her and she frowned instantly when the taller Templar stated matter-of-factly, "Only village residents may enter and the boy stole private property-"

"Look, Stumpy, I've family to see and they've been expecting me for more than a month" she stated briskly with a perfect voice of assurance over her conceived lie but Amil hid behind her in case the men decided to lash out. She didn't mind playing shield for a child since the poor things were regarded lowly in this era just as women, especially those originating from low castes, and wondered how Maria didn't go crazy and hack every chauvinistic man into bite size pieces. Straightening her posture to appear as the confident woman she was in her own era, she placed her hands on her hips to show she meant business and continued adding fuel to her argument, "As for this property excuse, he brought the horse back but he wouldn't have taken it in the first place if you people weren't playing the role of sheep herders."

From afar, Malik peeked through a bale of hay he'd been unwillingly dragged into by his friend in order to avoid a Templar that had been doing rounds through the area. Of course, the man had decided to pee right next to the hay and almost caused Malik to faint at the horrible stench but Altaїr kept him strong by pinching his ear to focus on the new pain until the man left. Afterwards, he'd shoved Altaїr aside to find a new place in the hay to observe the whereabouts of his friend but kept his nose covered because really, the smell was almost inhuman. He could see their third companion breaking apart an argument to its bare pieces at the village entrance and didn't stray his line of sight as he asked quietly, "Is it just me that finds this scene amusing?"

"I'd rather you didn't become attached to that creature- she irks me" Altaїr muttered darkly under his breath as he analyzed all of Vivian's movements to make sure she wouldn't blow their plan out of the water. Despite the fact that Vivian assured she'd improvise in case the Templars decided to kick her out on her ass, he didn't trust the little spitfire of a badger. She managed to crawl under his skin with words alone since he wasn't keen on sharing every aspect of his life with someone he'd never met and couldn't shake off the eeriness of having her on the journey. That wasn't to say he was wary of her (an assassin would _never_ be daunted by a petite banshee) because he could crush her in one blow and added in bluntly, "Part of me is hoping a coyote will drag her off into the darkness during the night."

Malik directed a dry glare to his friend because he certainly didn't fantasize about the demise of a traveling companion and flatly stated, "I pity what dwells in the dark recesses of your mind."

As the two men craftily hid in the bale of hay until the coast was clear, Vivian remained at a heated deadlock with the Templars as she snapped sternly with thinly set lips, "If you don't let me in, I will send for my husband and he is within the vizier's trusted circle which will make sure you crawl back into whatever mucky hole from the Nile that you crawled out of."

One of the Templars backed away to let her pass when she mentioned the vizier but the other still denied entrance, his metal covered arms crossing across his chest as he refused with the simple reason of, "You don't look Egyptian."

"And you don't look like a man under Saladin" she shot back quickly like a king cobra ready to strike a bothersome hand and both men tensed to her accusation, practically growing in height once more. Uh-oh, that definitely wasn't good. Realizing she might be sticking herself into deadly quicksand rather than choosing an easier path, Vivian raised her hands peacefully to stay on their good sides (as if there were any) and returned to the friendly tone she'd used earlier to sigh, "All right, let's resolve this peaceably."

"I was born in the holy city but my residence is Memphis where I am a seamstress, happy?" she explained her intricately weaved lie of a life with a proud voice for her nonexistent job to add in credibility points. She didn't appreciate having an automatic stamp placed on her head due to her physical looks but since the New World had yet to be discovered, she let it slide. . .for now. Her hands motioned to her current new robe, which she'd changed into to fit the role of a seamstress since the gray fabric was deemed wearable by the fashion conscious Altaїr. Taking a page out of a finicky fashion guru's handbook, she wrinkled her nose to play the part as she took in the men's garb with a critiquing eye and stated smartly, "You might want to forgo those dark monochromatic tones, they are very last season. Beige is the rage at the moment and the old Phoenician trend of royal purple is coming back with the force of a tidal wave."

The first Templar who previously allowed her entrance glanced down at his own clothes to inspect them more closely, his fingers grasping the linen fabric of his left pant leg. It almost brought Vivian to humorous laughter at seeing a fearsome Templar being self-conscious all of a sudden, especially over clothing. Of course, the one who hadn't allowed her entrance was unfazed to her cocky remark but grit out tightly, "You get _one_ day. Tomorrow, I expect you gone."

"Gladly" she replied listlessly as she breezed past them with a triumphant smile for gaining entrance into the small village, gently tugging the leads of the horse, and puffed her chest to stroll forward. Never did she imagine herself arguing with Templars in an ancient remote village and counted herself lucky for surviving another obstacle in her new life, keeping the peppy smile plastered on her face. This newest success added in another task that she'd completed for Altaїr and he'd have to face the truth that she wasn't there to suffocate him with a pillow during the night or throw him off a canoe to pitifully drown in the river. Stroking the horse's snout to comfort the poor animal because who knew what it witnessed as a Templar steed, Vivian missed her trusty Shadowfax and hoped she was safely happy back at Masyaf eating oats and barley. Her other companion seemed at ease to be back home but his dark eyes carried apprehension for the hidden agendas carrying on which led Vivian to reassure him on their easy entrance, "See? That was a piece of cake."

The young boy could only blink with confusion to her comment and asked, "What cake?"

* * *

Amil opened the main doors to his family barn far enough to allow he and Vivian inside, slipping through before anybody witnessed them. The barn was dimly lit and without animal life as the family's livestock grazed outside for the day so silence filled the inside to grant them privacy. Vivian's historian side itched to study the farming tools hanging from the walls and scattered on the floor for further knowledge since she'd yet to visit an ancient barn so who knew when the next opportunity would come. Amil tried to tidy up a few random tools lying around the floor to clean up since his chores had undoubtedly been completed by his older siblings. Vivian was about to lend a hand as she leaned down to grasp a sickle but a dark shadow stationed itself over her spot on the hay covered floor and she tensed immediately.

They weren't alone.

"You have a way with words" Altaїr spoke up in acknowledgment, his eerily smooth voice causing her to yelp immediately as she stood up to pinpoint his presence. The last thing she wanted was to unexpectedly tackled or knocked out by the assassin because he did it just for fun- on her alone. His immaculate white robes were easily distinguishable against the yellow hay on the second story area overlooking the horse stables and Vivian couldn't help but be reminded of a barn owl. The man already resembled an eagle with his name and reflexes alone but his current position on the level imposed intimidation upon those below as his honey eyes scrutinized everything in sight. Vivian was tempted to grab a broom to swat him off from the wooden ledge like a pesky bat as he tilted his head slightly to add in the insult attached to the original compliment, "It's a shame you can't fight your way out of a barrel to save your own life."

Vivian narrowed her eyes since she'd expected a begrudging 'satisfactory' from his mouth after playing decoy but since that wasn't happening, simply replied, "I should count myself lucky then. . .and stop squatting like that on the ledge, you're not at a view point."

The assassin growled under his breath from his perch, disliking her knowledge over his private dealings and the two engaged in a heated staring contest. Their battle for dominance was broken when a muffled cough popped in from the first floor where bales of hay and wooden barrels were collected in the farthest corner of the barn. Vivian's tense posture relaxed as she recognized Malik's soft coughing and expected him to pop out of a small mound of hay at any second.

Instead, she laughed with delight when a brown barrel tipped over and the navy robed dai spilled onto the ground on his back to glance at each of them upside down. Vivian merely smiled brightly at him to nonverbally assure him everyone was prone to a little clumsiness and he spoke with a sheepish smile, "The hay was too obvious a choice. It turns out I like barrels better."

Amil watched the peculiar trio as one practically guarded the barn like an owl by squatting on the ledge and the other two turned to order the man in white to come back down. The stoic man refused to listen, raising his chin towards the roof to ignore them, but Amil caught their attention by informing them gently, "You can meet my family and have lunch with us."

Vivian smiled amicably to his friendly invitation as she helped Malik stand on his feet and before Altaїr could offer a tart retort, accepted cheerfully, "Splendid."

Altaїr cringed inwardly to Vivian's instant agreement since he wasn't the best 'family' type of man that could easily blend in among families to chat about. . .what topics did normal people talk about nowadays? He wondered if it was too late to jump out a nearby window and go Templar hunting because that would be undoubtedly easier for him.

* * *

It turned out that Amil's family consisted of seven children, all less than fifteen years of age, and _all_ of them took a liking to a certain grand master shrouded in mystery. The wandering trio had explained their reason for visiting due to Amil's request and his parents kindly informed them of the recent changes to the village that began the previous week. Vivian had taken notes in one of her journals to keep track of each of the Templar's movements and for once, Altaїr didn't complain to her hasty scribbles. They'd learned the Templars in the village were currently stationed within the main governmental building as business was conducted there and their enemies didn't hesitate to seize it. Their excuse for arriving was to inspect nearby villages on the way to Giza for information regarding the history of the pyramids as they preyed on the civilians by lying that Richard's army wanted to conquer said lands in his kingdom. Altaїr decided to use the building to their advantage as isolating their targets in one specific area would lessen the risk to civilian casualties and allow for easy maneuverability as he'd observed it from afar.

As they bided their time by planning their strategy in an empty corner of Amil's house, Altaїr had been followed incessantly for the past two hours by the curious children as he tried to shoo them away with their endless questions. He wasn't a fatherly type or a chatty man to socialize with and didn't know whether allowing Vivian to answer them on his behalf was the smartest thing to do, given the fact that she was from a different century. Malik, on the other hand, enjoyed relaxing in a cozy home with amicable farmers as they spoke about farmland (he'd always wanted a little piece of land to call his own), watching with glee as the children pulled on Altaїr's robes from behind. With Malik playing the chatty Cathy of their group, the task of guarding over the master assassin fell to Vivian to allow his brain to stew on plans and this meant prying the young children away as she told each a short story to keep them entertained for ten minutes. Of course, they always came back for more and she was soon running out of tales.

"Maybe you should stop the storytelling" Altaїr remarked simply as he used a piece of parchment to write out his ideas while another held a sloppy uneven sketch of the building. Vivian visibly winced at the horrible artwork that resembled an elementary school child's and wondered if this was the same man who had drawn such beautiful sketches in his codex because nobody would believe those two sketches came from the same man. The game had shown unique detailed drawings created by his hand alone, which blew her simple sketches right out of the water with his skills, and that poked her brain immediately.

"And let them tear off your pretty little robes?" she replied back with the same listless voice, snatching the parchment with the drawing to sit down next to him and began cleaning up the lines. There was no way he using that shoddy sketch to create his plan and if she had to find an artist nearby to teach him a few tips, she'd jab him inside a building with the end of her walking stick. She could already sense that he was growing restless with the lack of action as prolonging a mission caused him unease but he couldn't head into the enemy's den without a perfect plan. The lack of the eraser put a damper in her sketching as she added in a few architectural features that he'd missed in his hasty scribbling and quickly passed it back to him as she mumbled dryly, "We need to get you some art lessons, fast."

Altaїr was ready to fire his argument against her insult but she restated calmly to douse the flames, "You will need to sketch very descriptive sketches in the future and they must be perfectly legible, even in secret script, to be read by your descendants. With that said, this will not do and I must find a task to do to be a good guest here."

He contemplated on yanking Vivian back to her seat since she kept the children at bay but his grasp was evaded when she turned a sharp left to venture into the adjoined family kitchen. The master assassin could only scowl under his white hood, returning to his task once more to concentrate as he cloistered himself in the lonely corner of the home. If anything, he wished he could turn invisible against it so he could be left to his own devices. He was both grateful and wary to be in a stranger's home but they needed aid while he needed answers which shoved aside his need to be a lone wanderer that remained in the shadows. He was used to the constant loneliness which gave him an advantage in having both Malik and Vivian in his company, two individuals who didn't hesitate to socialize with people to give him that required space (that and he didn't know how to start a conversation without it being work related).

Vivian happily passed the time away by helping around the household, glad to be of help to the humble family since she was a guest. She'd learned the meaning of hard work when she learned how to prepare a dead hen for the dinner meal and warmed old day bread over a roasting fire. It sorely had her missing the conveniences of her time when she was plucking an overwhelming amount of feathers off the hen but it was worth a free loaf of bread as they played unofficial heroes. She highly doubted that they'd end up being Tolkien legendary since assassins worked in the shadows but if it could find her strong courage along the road like the cowardly lion in Oz, then it would be worth it.

_Even the Amish have it easy at this point_, she thought tiredly since helping with chores tired her in the ancient era and wiped her brow with the back of her hand to bring an end to her workload. She was surprised to the large amount of time needed to complete simple things that would've only needed a microwave in her era and sighed aloud as she sat down in her previously occupied chair next to Altaїr. Time had passed easily for him as Malik occupied most of the children and for the ones that managed to break free, Altaїr simply patted them on the head awkwardly and told them to be good children by helping their parents. It was plainly obvious that the master assassin didn't have parenting traits but he managed by being exposed to such situations. . . but kept a cautious eye out for the hasty pitter-patter of feet as Vivian yawned next to him.

"You have feathers in your hair" Altair mumbled simply as he sipped water, taking note of the main entrance of the building that they'd use to blockade all of their enemies. The rest of the doors around the first floor would remain locked as he counted on both Vivian and Malik to keep them under close watch while he would fight any remaining forces on the second. Templars on rounds or within the village would be drawn in by his quirky banshee and he would eliminate them quietly.

"You have a child stealing from your back pocket" she mumbled back with her own lethargy and rested her head on the arms as she made a makeshift pillow out of them. She didn't have the energy to laugh when he scared away a young toddler before she made off with one of his small throwing knives, patting her on the head gently as he advised that weapons were dangerous. The raven haired child merely blinked before scampering off to play with something else and Altaїr sighed deeply because he would _not_ have the stamina and possible, the patience, for child rearing.

Of course, Malik was happily sitting next to warm fire as he regaled the young children with a tale of adventure about a traveling man and a river crocodile. His friend could draw crowds with a single sentence while Altaїr had his actions speak for him. He was glad for it at the moment as he bided his time until Templar butt kicking time. . .ugh, the boredom was starting to reel in words that only Vivian used.

"I'm more than ready to escape the little demons, facing the Templars seems more merciful" Altaїr muttered flatly as he closed his eyes under his hood for a small moment of peace because everything would have to go as planned for success. Malik could hold himself well in a fight but he'd yet to face Templars since losing his arm and he'd mostly knocked out the controlled assassins when they fought at Masyaf to defeat his former master. Vivian was the uncertain variable in the group because she lacked any skill so unless he could use the screeching she called singing against the enemy, he'd no idea how she'd do in close combat.

"My muscles hurt, massage my back" she whined pitifully as she burst into his thoughts, flashing him a green eyeful of the puppy eye expression. It worked splendidly for children but she was well past the cutting age and with Altaїr being a statue of stone, it merely rolled off his back without any effect. She added an innocent smile to sway his thinking and piped up with a voice that was too sweet to be her own, "Please? I will love you forever and ever."

Vivian allowed herself to believe that he actually going to do so when he leaned over, letting a dopey smile grace her face as she waited to reap the benefits of the puppy eye bit. Unfortunately, she didn't see the evil gleam hidden in Altaїr's honey eyes as his hand descended upon the back of her neck. A second later, she yelped painfully when a sharp jolt shot down her spine as he pinched her on the nape of her neck with his thumb and index fingers.

She whimpered into her arms like an injured puppy as she nursed her newest boo-boo with a pout, cursing the man's deceit and natural reflexes. Her fingers gently kneaded the abused flesh on her neck, flashing the cruel man a glare before stomping her smaller foot over his booted one which caused an instant hiss to leave his lips. Altaїr decided that his time in the civilian home was done, especially before he maimed Vivian in front of Amil's family, and stood up to grab his belongings into his arms. She called it a small victory in her favor since it was a rather painful pinch but Altaїr gained the upper hand by subtly adding in his insult when he called out, "Time to leave, men."

Oh, how she hoped a Templar would shoot an arrow into his butt.

* * *

The plan started off just as the cool evening approached to allow better gripping for Altair since weary sweaty hands did nothing for an assassin on the move and Malik needed all his strength to take out the front lines. Also, the gathering cloud cover would allow for their shadows to be concealed when defeating Templars while clearing out the busy hours of the day in the village. Vivian's job came at drawing the attention of the weaker Templars there to drive them towards her companions who would be ready to kick the crap out of them from their hiding spots. Altaїr knew her hesitance to fight could cause a problem which is exactly why he was using her as a decoy for nabbing attention because nothing screamed helpless like Vivian. Of course, he didn't tell her this for fear that she'd double cross him and have him hanged by the Templars. . .that or the most likely result, having an unwelcome animal thrown into his tent at night. Nonetheless, he drew her in by convincing her that she was crucial in the decoy plan and he needed her to do this- it wasn't very hard to persuade her when he promised he'd buy her treats. It was hard not to imagine Vivian as his little lapdog in the making but he wouldn't demean both of them in that manner, no matter how hilarious it would be.

They needed direct access into the administration building to eliminate the Templars while keeping civilians completely outside, practically barricading them form entering. Malik would take care of that problem once Altaїr was inside but he needed Vivian to gain access first by heading into the lion's den. Vivian approached the nearest Templar group huddled at the left side of the building, certain that they were consolidating their evil power for malicious Templar stuff. . .or simply guarding but whatever. She was flawless when it came to grabbing attention at the most inopportune time, clumsily knocking over a few barrels as she'd been preparing to clap, and improvised by calling out to the Templars with a witty smirk, "Oh look, a scumbag convention! It's painfully obvious that you Templars fail at disguise, a blind baboon with neon fur could do better."

The rabble it caused put Frankenstein's pitchfork and torches crowd to shame as the Templars became enraged and chased after her with brandished weapons to strike the infidel down. Like the cartoonish Roadrunner, she smirked evilly to attracting them like flies to a carnivorous plant and ran with all the speed her muscles could muster, dodging bales of hay and hitting nearby crates to knock them over to hurt a few Templars that didn't watch their step. It worked for a few that hadn't expected it but most were sharp and agile enough to know better, keeping up the chase against the woman. She wasn't about to be prematurely impaled or killed this early in life and hoped Altaїr was nearby to rescue her like a clichéd damsel in distress. Although he'd taught her a few basic defense tactics, it wasn't helpful in her current scenario since an exposed back could bring about an easy downfall with any hurled weapon. Shouts that demanded she halt were disregarded entirely because she knew damn well that they wouldn't treat her fairly if so.

As she reached the first checkpoint, she jumped into a nearby bale of hay (conveniently placed by her companions) with the same fluidity as Altaїr and was proud of herself as she blended in flawlessly . . . but held her nose to the awful smell. That was something she'd never adapt to anytime soon. Shadows flew by her little mound of hay as the first group charged forward to find her cornered on the same path and. . .

They stumbled right into a large pit of fresh mud that was temporarily free of farm pigs.

The men fell on their backs, face first, and on their sides as they lost their balance and slid into the soft fresh mud to be completely slathered by it. Vivian's ears were very pleased to the disgusted noises emitting from the pig pen since she'd fallen in mud more times in the AC world than in real life, a cheshire grin growing on her lips for succeeding with her task. Although it had been a simple run that anyone could do, she was thankful that she hadn't been caught or struck dead with an arrow so she put that imminent fear on the back shelf for now. Altaїr wasted no time jumping out from another bale of hay across from hers but he was the offense of the decoy team. He used his crossbow to aim at the temporarily incapacitated enemies to eliminate them one by one, piercing their bodies efficiently with each shot to deal a critical blow. The silent noise of the arrows took care of their enemies subtly and the mud reduced the creation of echoing noise to alert anybody nearby that would care enough to investigate.

Vivian took the lack of noise as the all clear signal to leave her hidden spot and she smiled brightly at seeing Malik nonchalantly spreading loose hay over the dead bodies to cover up their work. With the settlement being small, they needed creative ways of disposing the bodies temporarily until the job was finished. Altaїr took this time to reload extra arrows into his crossbow, casually glancing over at Vivian as she approached them slowly. Her hands grasped nearby hay from the dirt floor to add her own contribution by covering a booted foot and couldn't believe she was now officially an accessory to murder. Helping an assassin murder was not on her life's 'to-do' list but she'd only been defending herself, right? Oh, and helping save humanity by ridding the world of one evil Templar at a time.

Thankfully, Altaїr's direct attitude broke her away from the moral dilemma.

"Go distract the Templars inside the entrance and be careful" Altaїr ordered quietly but firmly to make sure she understood him clearly because there were no stops in his plan. Once she cleared the next checkpoint, they would move into position and there was no room for mistake as they depended on her. Wiping her hands clean of hay, she took a deep breath and chastised her brain to hurry up in sending adrenaline to her system because she'd need it once she entered the lion's den.

Trying to maintain her upbeat attitude, she piped up confidently with a peppy grin, "Careful's my middle-"

"Go!" he commanded sharply to cut her short and she gave him a military salute, obeying him quietly as she left the area with deliberate steps to leave the irritated eagle. Despite the danger surrounding the area, she mimicked his bossy order with her lips as she broke into a leisure run to find her next target and kept a careful eye around the entire area. While she headed towards the next checkpoint of her objective, Malik and Altaїr would take care of any wandering Templars to be rid of them once the real fight occurred. Villagers were going on in their everyday lives as they hid their presence very well so far but with her being known as a temporary visitor, she played her role as a simple woman heading to the market.

That is, if the market was in the main area of the village and a sharp right corner turn brought her directly to the village's equivalent of city hall. She needed to gain access into the building and knowing her craftiness at being outrageous, she was going to make this good enough to the point that she'd have landed herself in a YouTube video back in her own time.

* * *

**A/N**: I wanted to post this before the new game's out because some of us tend to be crazily addicted to anticipated games so I'll give you guys a dose of Altaїr. I was sick with a pretty bad sinus infection which kept me away from my dear computer but went crazy with it this weekened to finish this chapter and the next while starting on the others. Needless to say, I would love to own a barn just to have Altaїr play an owl and have a child simply poke him in the ribs just to irk him. In the next chapter, we'll see our trio take on the Templars to be rid of them. . .for a while, anyway.

Thanks to all of the new subscriptions/favs since the last chapter, I appreciated reading each one and a heartfelt thanks to my last reviewers:

_Diiah_: Thanks so much, I hope my writing stayed the same in this chapter since I was sick for half of it and tried to edit it to the best of my abilities this week. Vivian's naturally curious without even trying and she can be downright outrageous if Altaїr commands her to do something. She's his grenade against the Templars.

_Bearybeary_: Thanks a bunches, I gladly bow to the compliment.

_Linda Chicana_: Yep, she's always finding something to make a parody out of to grind on his nerves. My chapter's get long sometimes that I push back the Adventure Time songs until the situation is perfect. I think the next one is Billy's song after she and Altaїr finally put their antagonism to rest, which he doesn't complain about because it'll be about his awesomeness.

_Foreverafter_: Thank you for loving my writing style, I try my best to please my readers with Altaїr and Malik humorous goodness.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: Yep, she's a good lightbulb that gets under Altaїr's skin and he doesn't hesitate to put Vivian up for decoy but for him. Although, I would think he'd do it to protect her from any real fighting while keeping her out of his shots.

_Girl13_: Thanks for loving the fanfic, I love stories that will make me laugh until my lungs hurt and this comes from an asthmatic.

* * *

Next Time:

Vivian pushed Malik towards the stairway to lend aid to their companion (who wasn't hesitant to keep voicing it) and told him, "Go, I'll play decoy."

She didn't mind running around like a chicken with its head cut off because a lone target made an easier kill for the Templars. Thankfully, they bit onto the bait and she would gladly play the role of the innocent worm. Luckily, the first floor was a major trade area that regulated business with the other cities to maintain their rural economy and Vivian used the empty burlap sacks to throw at her enemies to blind them temporarily while using the barrels nearby for safety. Crawling through the little maze of barrels wasn't bad as she'd become used to finding the craziest places to play hide-and-seek from with her youngest sister. Everything worked fine and dandy until swords began impaling the wooden barrels to fish her out which put Vivian on high alert to dodge the sharp metal. Escaping from her discovered hiding spot by standing up, she called out to the enemies on the other side and beseeched, "C'mon, I sang you a song!"

"It was atrocious!"

"Hey, now that's just _rude_" she scolded with offense to her singing voice (although they we right on the money) since a song about Templars did not please any audience with kindness in their hearts. Lifting one of the lids off a wooden barrels, she chucked it at the armored Templar that had called out the insult and although it missed hitting him as another knocked it aside, it was worth it.

From the stairwell, Malik and Altaїr made quick work of the last two Templars with their swords as their enemies lacked speed in small spaces. Catching their breath, Malik wiped his sword on the nearest body and admitted confidently, "I haven't had a good fight in quite a while."

Altair managed a chuckle as he quickly retrieved his knives from the dead bodies slumped over the stairs and they heard Vivian singing downstairs with her awful voice, "_Everybody was kung fu fighting_- ha ha, die Templar!"


	14. I Love It When An Explosion Comes Togeth

**I Love It When An Explosion Comes Together  
**

* * *

The plan started off just as the cool evening approached to allow better gripping for Altair since weary sweaty hands did nothing for an assassin on the move and Malik needed all his strength to take out the front lines. Also, the gathering cloud cover would allow for their shadows to be concealed when defeating Templars while clearing out the busy hours of the day in the village. Vivian's job came at drawing the attention of the weaker Templars there to drive them towards her companions who would be ready to kick the crap out of them from their hiding spots. Altaїr knew her hesitance to fight could cause a problem which is exactly why he was using her as a decoy for nabbing attention because nothing screamed helpless like Vivian. Of course, he didn't tell her this for fear that she'd double cross him and have him hanged by the Templars. . .that or the most likely result, having an unwelcome animal thrown into his tent at night. Nonetheless, he drew her in by convincing her that she was crucial in the decoy plan and he needed her to do this- it wasn't very hard to persuade her when he promised he'd buy her treats. It was hard not to imagine Vivian as his little lapdog in the making but he wouldn't demean both of them in that manner, no matter how hilarious it would be.

They needed direct access into the administration building to eliminate the Templars while keeping civilians completely outside, practically barricading them form entering. Malik would take care of that problem once Altaїr was inside but he needed Vivian to gain access first by heading into the lion's den. Vivian approached the nearest Templar group huddled at the left side of the building, certain that they were consolidating their evil power for malicious Templar stuff. . .or simply guarding but whatever. She was flawless when it came to grabbing attention at the most inopportune time, clumsily knocking over a few barrels as she'd been preparing to clap, and improvised by calling out to the Templars with a witty smirk, "Oh look, a scumbag convention! It's painfully obvious that you Templars fail at disguise, a blind baboon with neon fur could do better."

The rabble it caused put Frankenstein's pitchfork and torches crowd to shame as the Templars became enraged and chased after her with brandished weapons to strike the infidel down. Like the cartoonish Roadrunner, she smirked evilly to attracting them like flies to a carnivorous plant and ran with all the speed her muscles could muster, dodging bales of hay and hitting nearby crates to knock them over to hurt a few Templars that didn't watch their step. It worked for a few that hadn't expected it but most were sharp and agile enough to know better, keeping up the chase against the woman. She wasn't about to be prematurely impaled or killed this early in life and hoped Altaїr was nearby to rescue her like a clichéd damsel in distress. Although he'd taught her a few basic defense tactics, it wasn't helpful in her current scenario since an exposed back could bring about an easy downfall with any hurled weapon. Shouts that demanded she halt were disregarded entirely because she knew damn well that they wouldn't treat her fairly if so.

As she reached the first checkpoint, she jumped into a nearby bale of hay (conveniently placed by her companions) with the same fluidity as Altaїr and was proud of herself as she blended in flawlessly . . . but held her nose to the awful smell. That was something she'd never adapt to anytime soon. Shadows flew by her little mound of hay as the first group charged forward to find her cornered on the same path and. . .

They stumbled right into a large pit of fresh mud that was temporarily free of farm pigs.

The men fell on their backs, face first, and on their sides as they lost their balance and slid into the soft fresh mud to be completely slathered by it. Vivian's ears were very pleased to the disgusted noises emitting from the pig pen since she'd fallen in mud more times in the AC world than in real life, a cheshire grin growing on her lips for succeeding with her task. Although it had been a simple run that anyone could do, she was thankful that she hadn't been caught or struck dead with an arrow so she put that imminent fear on the back shelf for now. Altaїr wasted no time jumping out from another bale of hay across from hers but he was the offense of the decoy team. He used his crossbow to aim at the temporarily incapacitated enemies to eliminate them one by one, piercing their bodies efficiently with each shot to deal a critical blow. The silent noise of the arrows took care of their enemies subtly and the mud reduced the creation of echoing noise to alert anybody nearby that would care enough to investigate.

Vivian took the lack of noise as the all clear signal to leave her hidden spot and she smiled brightly at seeing Malik nonchalantly spreading loose hay over the dead bodies to cover up their work. With the settlement being small, they needed creative ways of disposing the bodies temporarily until the job was finished. Altaїr took this time to reload extra arrows into his crossbow, casually glancing over at Vivian as she approached them slowly. Her hands grasped nearby hay from the dirt floor to add her own contribution by covering a booted foot and couldn't believe she was now officially an accessory to murder. Helping an assassin murder was not on her life's 'to-do' list but she'd only been defending herself, right? Oh, and helping save humanity by ridding the world of one evil Templar at a time.

Thankfully, Altaїr's direct attitude broke her away from the moral dilemma.

"Go distract the Templars inside the entrance and be careful" Altaїr ordered quietly but firmly to make sure she understood him clearly because there were no stops in his plan. Once she cleared the next checkpoint, they would move into position and there was no room for mistake as they depended on her. Wiping her hands clean of hay, she took a deep breath and chastised her brain to hurry up in sending adrenaline to her system because she'd need it once she entered the lion's den.

Trying to maintain her upbeat attitude, she piped up confidently with a peppy grin, "Careful's my middle-"

"Go!" he commanded sharply to cut her short and she gave him a military salute, obeying him quietly as she left the area with deliberate steps to leave the irritated eagle. Despite the danger surrounding the area, she mimicked his bossy order with her lips as she broke into a leisure run to find her next target and kept a careful eye around the entire area. While she headed towards the next checkpoint of her objective, Malik and Altaїr would take care of any wandering Templars to be rid of them once the real fight occurred. Villagers were going on in their everyday lives as they hid their presence very well so far but with her being known as a temporary visitor, she played her role as a simple woman heading to the market.

That is, if the market was in the main area of the village and a sharp right corner turn brought her directly to the village's equivalent of city hall. She needed to gain access into the building and knowing her craftiness at being outrageous, she was going to make this good enough to the point that she'd have landed herself in a YouTube video back in her own time.

A sandy beige limestone building of two stories high was located in the center of the small village as all business was conducted inside and just as Amil had assured, it was under heavy occupation by the Templars. Altaїr had studied it carefully like a hawk from an open window on the highest level of Amil's family barn to study their movements and their hand drawn sketches had helped figure out how to infiltrate the building. There were rarely any civilians from the village scurrying in, most went out at top speed, but it was pretty obvious on who held control of the settlement. The Templars had been smart in using remote locations to gather intel about the large cities before striking or sending their information along but Vivian hoped Altaїr could put an end to it- or impede their progress if he couldn't. Civilians weren't warriors but somebody needed to stand up to them for the common good. There were two men guarding the only available entrance as all the others were sealed by their enemies which played a huge disadvantage for the Templars as the assassins would eliminate guards posted outside, barricading the sealed exits on the outside with crates for added insurance.

Straightening her posture and puffing out her chest to display the asserting dominance of a male peacock, Vivian strolled forward with a confident gait until the Templars were forced to pay her attention. Women weren't seen as much during this era, a wooden footstool had more rights, and Vivian's normal independence fit for women in twenty-first century America would send them into an uproar. It had already caused several clashes with the conservatively stoic Altaїr and they were on the same side so she could only imagine what the Templars would do. With a big smile plastered on her oval face, she greeted cheerfully with a loud voice, "Hello there, is this where I sign up to be a brainwashing Templar?"

The second the last word flew out of her mouth, she was seized roughly by the arms and dragged inside the dimly lit main room but she didn't struggle for a second. She was there to play a sweet ditsy persona that could do no wrong but cause infinite mayhem with her mouth alone, looking to each of her captors as they pinned her arms behind her back. Their attitude practically pinned her with the unofficial title of a criminal as they tried to act like law enforcement but she wouldn't buy any of their lip for a second. Of course, the logical part of her mind just had to add in an innocent jab against the Templars for their insensitive treatment of an innocent civilian and she piped up excitedly, "Awesome, I'm being abducted and I'm _totally_ okay with it because it shows just how much you love your fellow man."

"Quiet, wench," ordered buffoon number one at her left and she resisted from stomping his booted foot with her own to make him eat his words. Seriously, how did they expect people to believe they were out to find the common good through order when they treated human beings like crap on a sidewalk? Truly, it baffled her. They must've invented an efficient lobotomizing technique to convince average people that their way was best. So far, Altaїr had treated her far better during their weeks of travel and he practically despised her mere essence around him.

"Hey, I want to be part of your group" she insisted with an innocently gentle voice but she was thrown to the floor callously, her butt impacting sharply on the limestone floor which caused her to bite back a painful groan. She wouldn't give them any gloating power by admitting her pain but rubbed her lower back in case the jerks had somehow managed to hurt her tailbone. If so, she'd raise hell and kick in a few bucket heads- after Altaїr knocked them out, of course. She'd be lying if she said it was comfortable being in the center spotlight of the dangerous group, dwarfed by the walking trash compactors that threatened the free will of mankind, but she kept her composure because she trusted Altaїr (despite he didn't share the sentiment). The natural defensive fear that rabidly stabbed at her mind to stop luring them into a dangerous zone was disregarded as her duty to the cause came first and she smiled brightly to admit, "I even made a theme song about it. Ahem. . ."

Altaїr sent his best weapon into the hideout when Vivian unleashed her off-key singing,

_"Who controls the British crown?  
Who keeps the Assassin's order down?  
We do, we do  
Who keeps Atlantis off the maps?  
Who keeps the artifacts under wraps?  
We do, we do  
Who holds back the horse-drawn carriage?  
Who's the team that wins with damn best courage?  
We do, we do_

Who keeps Peter IV of Bulgaria a Tsar?  
Who makes Gilbert Horal a star?  
We do, we do  
Who cheats enemies with conspiracies?  
And then brings in the authorities?  
We do, we do!  
Who rigs every election night?  
Who blames the assassins on world blights?"  
We do, we do-o-o-o-o!  
Da da da da dah!

Vivian added a little flair at the end by using jazz hands and grinned with zest when she managed to sway one of the Templars in the ominous crowd. Who'd a thought? She was almost tempted to start another catchy song but thought better of it because being impaled by multiple weapons at once wasn't very appealing, which brought her to simply gauge their reactions to predict the next action. The gray robed man clapped to her upbeat song about evil world domination, completely missing the fact that nobody else was doing the same, and blurted excitedly to his fellow evildoers, "Let's make her a recruit!"

The other Templars turned to the random man immediately with breakneck speed to his outlandish suggestion and Vivian knew that under their bucket heads, they were either shooting scathing glares or deadpanning to the exclamation. The poor bloke, she almost felt sorry for his choosing of the crappiest profession in the Middle Ages. Vivian managed to figure out who the leader was rather quickly as his ominous black armor distinguished him among the others and she shook her head mentally for the chosen color scheme- what do-gooder of the people wore black? Well, Batman was an exception due to him being dubbed the 'dark knight' but that wasn't the point here! Vivian snapped out of her geeky ramblings of the mind and visually stamped him as priority target number one for assassination, especially if he tried anything funny. The man in charge smacked the perkier Templar across the head to silence the foolish suggestions and stated bluntly with a rough voice, "_Nobody_ is being made a recruit!"

"Aw, fiddlesticks" Vivian pouted to feign disappointment as she crossed her arms, her face crestfallen to failing her only chance in life to join the Templar order (they had awful health insurance anyway). She had to do everything in her power to keep their full attention fixated on her as Altaїr snuck in from the outside with his arsenal of many skills and handy weapons. The assassin was craftier than a fox in real life so she was absolutely certain he was aware of what was transpiring inside the building so it fell on her shoulders to buy him time. It only took a second to careen an entire plan out of control and she wouldn't allow it after promising Amil that they'd try their best. . .she also couldn't lie to puppy-eyed children. Maintaining her bubbly persona to keep the show rolling, she clapped her hands loudly to snap their undivided attention back to her before they burst into arguments about the best method to maim her with and piped up cheerfully, "How about another song?"

"No!," was their unison shout of dismay and they raised their hands to shield themselves from the horrible sound. Vivian tried not to take offense to their protest as it was familiar to Altaїr's own reaction to her traveling tunes, using the feedback to turn it into an optimistic weapon of choice to irritate her foes.

_I can be the normal everyday Black Canary from DC comics, sans the hero outfit and cartoon gorgeousness_, Vivian thought dreamily about putting her weakest and most abhorred skill (by others, anyway) to some good use. Altaїr would not be allowed to complain as she sent enemies scouring for safety with her screechy cries and. . .well, that's all she could come up with for her fictional hero dossier.

"Come now, I'm here to impress the fearsome Templar order with my awesomeness" she objected with a madman grin that she knew would grind their nerves or frighten masses because it certainly bordered on manic. Their order was crazy anyway so she decided to shift gears into a routine resembling the Mad Hatter because that would either have them cowering, accepting, or kicking her half across Africa. Laughing wildly with glee towards nothing, she raised her hand in the air and struck the limestone floor as she tried to perform a karate chop.

"Hiyah!"

Needless to say, it wasn't the best idea out of her 'how to make Templars crazy' manual and she held her bruised hand to her chest immediate as it throbbed painfully. The side of her hand turned tomato red from the sharp impact as her pink stung sharply and she rocked herself back and forth in self-comfort while sniffling with true woe, "Ouchies!"

The dark armored Templar grasped Vivian by the scruff of her neck to drag her elsewhere within the building and she hoped it wasn't a dark dungeon that was dank with the smell of death. That and nasty fat rats carrying disease. She'd read enough horror stories to know that would be the end of her time traveling adventure and that was a huge negative for the historian in the making; she'd kick ass, Nathan Drake style! The back of the building was shrouded in dim lighting which hindered her vision to detect if anymore enemies were lying in wait and she wriggled instantly to free herself. Her captor growled with frustration to her defiance to venture into the back and she hissed brazenly with a loud voice, "Unhand me, you rude oaf. How dare you squash a woman's lifelong dream to wreak mayhem in the world?"

The Templar stopped short and Vivian was ready to unleash a taunt or scream, whether he'd had a change of heart or wanted to execute her then and there. Instead, her expectations were blown away as she turned to see an arrow lodged through the man's neck, her eyes widening in shock to the silently effective attack but she had to remember she was dealing with an assassin in her midst. Her exposure to death was nonexistent and the image of seeing the tip of an arrowhead poking out of the throat of a man was enough to shake her own foundations on mortality. She pulled herself out of the dying man's grasp (part of her was struck with a shred of guilt since the man was a human being) and all the Templars turned hostile when their leader collapsed onto the floor dead, their covered eyes pinning her with the blame immediately. Vivian could only scoot back slowly from the dead body, avoiding the growing pool of crimson blood and waved her hands in the air to show she was completely unarmed. The angry mob stared her down with immediate conviction and she squeaked nervously with fear lacing into her tone, "After careful consideration, I respectfully decline to join your order. Thank you for your time!"

Immediately, she scrambled to find cover and anything useful to beat up Templars as arrows littered the air from Altaїr's position within the shadows in the back and angry voices shouted from the enemy's side. The assassin had used stacks of wooden barrels to conceal his position during Vivian's entertainment and it added further precision to shoot his deadly bolts but left the area when he was discovered. The shadows could only work to his advantage for so long and he ditched the safety of the barrels to lead them away from the unarmed Vivian, who'd scrambled to find a safe spot for the next part of the plan. Yep, that was her handy role while her companion was about to fight men to the death; it sunk her worthiness into the dark abyss of the negative zone.

Altaїr found the stairway leading to the second level on the right side of the building, bringing the angry rabble of Templars with him as he moved into position. Unsheathing his knife, he stabbed it between the wooden door and the rock doorway to create a blockade against the second level door that would keep his enemies on the top level at bay until he finished. It wouldn't be a permanent solution but the knife would remain wedged for a suitable time and he didn't hesitate to start hacking away at his enemies with his sharp sword. Meanwhile, Vivian hurried to find a way to the main entrance by carefully crawling through wooden barrels stationed against the wall since her next task was ticking away.

As Altaїr fought multiple enemies in a tight space that clearly gave him a disadvantage, Vivian made her way to the closed doors and sucked in a deep breath. She was doing this crazy mission for the great of humanity and with that uplifting goal in mind, leapt to open the main entrance to lure in the rest of the Templars. Her hands grasped the wooden board keeping the two doors closed, lifting the heavy piece over the two metal hooks to pull it onto the floor in one strong yank. Wasting no time, she used the metal attachments on the doors to pry them open to their fullest and exposed herself to the outside. Expecting to be skewered at any second, she grabbed a nearby scroll of parchment lying on top of a barrel to beat the nearest Templar over the head when he rushed inside to investigate. As another took notice of her intrusion and the offensive scroll, she jabbed one end at him to order him to stay back like a lion tamer while backing away toward the barrels. They spelled safety for her now that she'd unleashed hell within the administration building and darted her eyes all over the place in case anyone tried to sneak up on her to deal a killing blow.

Malik popped in to save the day with his dashing skills as he stabbed one Templar through the center of his back in one clean strike, dealing a critical blow as he kicked another behind the knee to cripple him momentarily. If any fan girls would've been present in Vivian's current topsy-turvy universe, they would've swooned to the courageous man coming to his friends rescue. Vivian took advantage of his arrival to help her friend by striking the man across the face with the wooden end of the scroll to knock him out cold. She felt a little pride in managing to help out in the tiniest amount since her strength was nil compared to the assassins and probably matched the inept mushroom people from Mario. As the dai focused his attention on demolishing the first floor forces, Vivian locked the entrance with the wooden beam once more (not that the thing was light, mind you) to make sure no civilians accidentally entered the scuffle since all Templars were now trapped inside.

The dai threw Vivian's walking stick in her direction and she caught it with a gleeful smile of rejoice, grateful that she wouldn't be fighting barehanded. _Anything_ was better than her weak fists! She kept Malik's back guarded as best she could but the ex-assassin didn't need any help despite his lack of an arm as his reflexes were as fast as ever, efficiently dodging and finding the enemy's weak spot to deal a finishing blow. Hmm, she seriously wondered why Ubisoft never brought him back as of yet. . .darn Ezio fans (yet she was one of them). If she had popcorn and a chair, she would've sat down to watch the show with a gleeful smile but this was her true reality now and she had to deal with it. Whenever a Templar dared to approach Malik's left side, he aimed a well-rounded kick to strike the enemy on the stomach to knock them aside and perfectly showed them that his vulnerable side definitely wasn't unprotected. All in all, Vivian was tempted to replace Malik in Altaїr's awesomeness slot.

The two managed to slice their way to Altaїr's position as the man held the Templars back with a sword in one hand and throwing knives in the other, bathing the staircase in crimson blood as he fought fiercely for survival. Malik kicked a nearby table towards the Templars on his own end to throw them back, incapacitating them for the moment as he fought two to balance out the forces outnumbering them. Vivian quickly made her way to the fallen Templars before they could stand and struck them over the head with her walking stick, hitting the men over their temples with the force Altaїr had shown her to knock them unconscious. . .or dead. Assassins really didn't like leaving their enemies alive, after all.

"Help would be very welcome!" Altaїr yelled over in beckoning as he stabbed a man in the neck with a throwing knife, asphyxiating the Templar with his own blood and kicked another down the stairs to land in a heap next to Malik. The dai made quick work of him with a stab in the center of the chest, slanting his angle to the left to target the heart for an immediate death. If there was ever a chosen way to pass onto the next life, it was either painlessly instant or an old man in bed for Malik. Metal clashed loudly at the top of the stairs as Altaїr tried his best to keep them back and to prevent the door from opening behind him, loudly cursing the wretched order with frustration, "Don't you people ever stop multiplying? You're like rabbits!"

Vivian pushed Malik towards the stairway to lend aid to their companion (who wasn't hesitant to keep voicing it) as he needed it the most and told him with a halfhearted smile, "Go, I'll play decoy."

_Try my best at it, anyway_, she finished in her mind since her humble civilian lifestyle had never prepared her to fight for her life in 12th century Egypt. Who, in the 21st century (apart from military personnel), was ever ready to fight armored men in swords? Whatever force sent her into Jerusalem really screwed up on sending the adequate person to help Altaїr on his quest. _Why not a decorated soldier? A prominent citizen of society? A scientist? I'm a history student, not a museum curator!_

She didn't mind running around like a chicken with its head cut off because a lone target made an easier and alluring kill for the Templars. Thankfully, they bit onto the bait without a second thought and she would gladly play the role of the innocent worm until Malik was free to return. Luckily, the first floor was the village's trade area that regulated business with the other cities to maintain their rural economy and materials for transporting goods were scattered around the room. There were sufficient empty burlap sacks to spare as flying projectiles and she threw them at her enemies to momentarily blind them while using the barrels nearby for safety. It wasn't the most brilliant of ideas but it was the best she could produce while fighting back the fear that bit her mind that at any given moment, it could be the end of her existence. Crawling through the little maze of barrels wasn't a tough feat for Vivian after years of finding the craziest of places to play hide-and-seek with her youngest sister. For the first time, Penelope's games came in handy for her big sister.

Everything worked fine and dandy for her until swords began impaling the wooden barrels to flush her out of hiding which put Vivian on high alert to dodge the sharp metal. Wooden splinters struck her cheek from glinting blade mere inches away from her nose and she crawled back as the weapon receded back to its awaiting owner. A swing into the next barrel to her right would surely puncture a limb or internal organ which sent her neurons firing an escape plan for self-preservation. Escaping from her discovered hiding spot by standing up, she called out to the enemies on the other side to halt their actions and beseeched, "C'mon, I sang you a song!"

"It was atrocious!"

"Hey, now that's just _rude_" she scolded with offense to her singing voice (although they we right on the money) since a song about Templars did not please any audience with an ounce of kindness in their hearts. Given her own dimension's history, the French certainly showed no appreciation for them. Lifting one of the lids off a wooden barrel, she chucked it at the armored Templar that had hurled the insult to gain comeuppance for her bruised pride and knock down a few IQ points. Unfortunately, it missed hitting him as another Templar knocked it aside by blocking the throw with his sword but the attempt was totally worth it.

From the stairwell, Malik and Altaїr made quick work of the last Templar with their swords as their armored enemies lacked speed in the small passageway. Assassins may not have worn heavy armor to deflect most attacks but it gave them a substantial advantage in stealth and agility, especially when entrapped in small spaces. Catching their breath since it had been weeks since a real fight, Malik wiped his sword on the nearest body and took pride in knowing he could handle a few Templars on his own. His confidence had waned slightly after losing his arm but as he continuously honed his other skills, he was discovering that a little handicap wouldn't hinder his efforts to take down enemies alongside Altaїr. Wiping his hands free of blood on another dead Templar, he admitted confidently with a reserved smile, "I haven't had a good fight in quite a while."

Altaїr managed a chuckle from his dry throat as he quickly retrieved his knives from the dead bodies slumped over the stairs and found himself amused to Malik's light humor. He couldn't remember the last time they joked after a fight since he'd been rather arrogant in his manner of leadership, demanding silence after briefing comrades or students. His eyes had been opened quite clearly and if he had the ability to travel into the past like Vivian, he would've kicked the past version of himself down the stairs of Masyaf until he landed at the wooden gates of the village with a purple ass (and that was no short trip). The two men were snapped out of their small moment of peace when they heard Vivian singing downstairs with her awful voice, "_Everybody was kung fu fighting_- ha ha, die Templar!"

Altaїr sighed to his eccentric companion because singing would be the last action in his mind to deter enemies. . .but she did have a pretty lousy voice to start with. He didn't want the woman to prematurely perish (especially when she knew more about his life than she cared to admit) and told Malik, "Go help her, I'm heading into the second level."

"Careful, brother" Malik warned and descended the steps quickly to help their civilian companion.

Altaїr wrenched his knife free from the doorway to allow access between floors once more, stepping over a few Templar bodies decorating the bottom of the door that served their purpose as a blockade. He noticed a few blades piercing the door in an attempt to pry it open but his knife had been wedged pretty tightly against the door's latch. Taking advantage of the embedded weapons, he pulled the door open in one swoop and stabbed anything with a body that ran his way as the Templars guarding it were caught unprepared with their weapons currently jammed in the door. His unsuspecting enemies fell onto the sharp edge of his sword and his hidden blade pierced anyone who treaded too closely. He hoped the number they faced on the second level was less and once he saw a clear opening within the group that was yelling for his immediate death, he took it.

Pushing through the heavy enraged Templars, he gracefully jumped onto a row of barrels aligned against the wall and kicked the nearest one like a soccer ball to throw it into the group. It managed to take down two Templars and his peripheral vision noticed wooden beams running along the ceiling which could be used as a vantage point for shooting (as long as they held no bows). Using a bloody knife, he threw it at a man's chest since their covered face would simply deflect the weapon and sheathed his bloodied sword as he jumped onto the nearest grooves embedded in the limestone wall to climb upwards. The small building coincidentally held great climbing items as he used natural grooves, metal hooks, and made quick use of dangling ropes hanging from the ceiling to climb onto the beams while efficiently dodging any weapons flung his way. As a master assassin, Altaїr could climb just about anything with his skilled hands but a small room increased his chances of being struck by enemies and decreased his success at reaching the beams. However, he was adamant on achieving his best vantage point by using all of his finesse and triumphed with a crafty precision jump from the wall towards the beam.

Landing safely on the wooden beam with his two feet firmly planted, he ducked behind the support beams erected vertically into the ceiling to shield himself from his enraged enemies. He almost smirked at knowing how furious they must be with their troop leader dead and allowing him to climb a wall so efficiently. . .but he was Altaїr Ibn-La'Ahad, they picked the wrong man to cross. Grabbing the wooden crossbow off his back, he unleashed a barrage of arrows to strike the critical points of the human body: the neck, chest, lower spine, and thighs. He managed to bring down two men as the others kept shouting to kill the assassin and from his hiding spot, Altaїr demanded curtly, "Why are you in Egypt?"

This resulted in hurled daggers and knives in his direction as Altaїr hid behind a vertical support beam and dodged any that came from the other side. As he tried to add a few more minutes to his life, he noticed the barrels he'd previously knocked over contained oil (either for food or work, he didn't know) but the fact that there were lit lanterns within the room gave him a great idea. However, for his plan to work, he needed some of the fallen barrels to be opened to be sure of their contents and a perfect shot from his end to tie everything together. With his current perch on the beams, he was going to depend on Vivian and Malik.

His two companions didn't leave him alone for very long as Malik didn't hesitate to slash anyone in his way when he entered with his sword hacking everything within a one foot radius. Vivian, on the other hand, simply strived to keep living and protected his back because as much as she tried to help- she was a civilian without experience. Her handy walking stick wasn't a suitable weapon but she tried her best as adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream to give her the surge of courage she demanded.

"Open the oil barrels!" Altaїr directed his group since signaling with whistles and hand signals flew out the window now that their presence was discovered. Malik heard the order through the rabble of fighting voices and quickly opened the top lid of one lying on its side by hacking it open with his sword, kicking aside one who tried to stop him. Vivian simply tripped another with her handy stick before ducking behind a barrel, ripping off the lid after two forceful tugs and chucking it into the crowd. Striking one Templar on the head, she cheered for succeeding in her throwing accuracy but when two charged at her like mad bulls, she found refuge between a stack of barrels. It was a good thing the lids were easy to pry off because having to ask her companions for help would've immediately doomed the mission faster than throwing digital Altaїr into the water in Acre.

Crawling around the tiny spaces behind the barrels, she kept still as a frightened mouse when they approached because a woman with a walking stick stood no chance against armed men. She felt like a cockroach hiding from the overlarge bottle of Raid ready to spray her dead and wished she could camouflage herself against the floor. Oh, how she wished to own Reptile's invisibility skill (from Mortal Kombat) or Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility at that very moment! The Templars knocked the wooden barrels apart to reveal Vivian's hiding spot until she was all alone in the center and tried not to let her body become overcome by quivering fear. Her hand tightened around her staff as one of the men raised his sword to cut her down but she raised her other hand to yell sharply, "If you strike me down, I will become more powerful than you can imagine. . .think about it."

It wasn't the best idea her neurons farted out but Star Wars never steered you wrong. The Templar paused for a moment to her false threat but another from behind him called her bluff and ordered coldly, "Kill her."

That's when Vivian remembered Ben Kenobi was killed immediately _after_ those famous words.

"Damn" she hissed miserably to her stroke of luck and raised her walking stick to protect herself as the glinting metal sword came down. Altaїr was ready to jump off the wooden beams when he saw he'd left the weakest member of the group entirely unprotected but halted as what he witnessed next astonished him. Vivian also expected the same as the grand master, to be brutally murdered and bleed profusely, but her blinking eyes full of perplexity saw something entirely different.

The sharp sword had cut into the wood, becoming jammed halfway through the stick and saving Vivian's life as she stared in disbelief to her good fortune. Glad to be alive and kicking for the gift she'd been granted, she kicked the Templar between the legs in attempt to push him away and grinned impishly when he stumbled back in pain. Served him right. Spotting Altaїr in the rafters, she jumped aside towards safety as his arrow flew to impale the Templar holding his abused crotch. Vivian almost felt bad for the poor man but then remembered that he did just try to _kill_ her so that eased her conscience somewhat. Using the extra time granted to her, she ripped off the lids of the barrels around her and avoided smearing oil onto her robes. She'd just avoided death narrowly and wasn't looking to meet the reaper anytime soon with Altaїr's secret plan. Dodging the second Templar that escaped Altaїr's first arrow, she struck him across the face with the end of her stick and ran out of harm's way toward the open doorway. She didn't hesitate to trip another Templar that had been trying to stab Malik in the shoulder, lending a helping hand to the dai as he grinned to the sudden gain in momentum.

Altaїr saw his opening and aiming at the nearest lantern sitting on a desk over the oil that she'd spilled during the scuffle, he released an arrow to strike the burning lantern. The arrow cleanly pierced the glass, breaking open the protective casing and the force was enough to tip it over the edge and onto the floor to shatter completely. The burning flame from the white candle touched the oil that was spread heavily over the floor and in an instant, fire lit up the room.

The flame automatically spread over the oil of the tipped barrels and engulfed the area in a blaze, prompting Vivian to run away as Templars caught fire from the bath of oil or were struck by the flurry of arrows from the assassin. Her ears yearned to block out the screams inside and the smell of smoking flesh entered her noise, flipping her stomach to the awful smell as she leaned against the wall of the staircase. She couldn't close her eyes without losing her vigilance, fixating her gaze on the limestone wall, but the crackling of burning wood and clothing was enough to have her avoid looking into the room. Battle was not beautiful, it was about raw survival and Vivian had to learn to adapt to the turbulent times she was stranded in.

Her worry over for her friends conquered the fear and she turned away from the stairs to see through the growing fire, hoping to catch the outline of the assassins but the movement was too chaotic. She couldn't retrace her steps as the oil had quickly spread through the room, bathing the entire room in its hot inferno, but Altaїr's voice rang clear through the sizzling flames as he shouted, "Get out, Vivian!"

She didn't argue this time.

Running for the only exit in sight, she shot down the stairs to find the entrance. Dark smoke billowed into the lower level in slow tendrils as she stepped over the dead bodies of their enemies, making her way to lift the wooden beam holding the entrance doors shut. It was the only thing she could do to help at this point and hoped her companions weren't far behind. Prying the doors open with haste, she ran into the fresh night air as the clash of swords and the flash of fire had gathered the attention of the village. Thankfully, the assassins were dangerously efficient in eliminating their enemies and no Templar remnants were outside waiting to spear her. Coughing to clear her lungs from any smoke inhalation and wiping her sweaty brow, she breathed heavily to tell the villagers to stay back while keeping a worried eye on the entrance.

The fire kept growing within the building, filling the starry night with an ominous orange glow and Vivian fought her survival instincts to flee as she wandered toward the entrance. She was growing tired of waiting like a useless person, the seconds prolonging into agonizing minutes as she wringed her grimy hands together over the skirt of her day robe. The lower room had quickly become thick with smoke as the oil further increased its potency and Vivian hated the low visibility (no more than a meter), wishing she could head inside to help but it would only lead to self-injuries or suffocation. When Malik emerged through the black smoke with soot on his face, she leapt forward to embrace the dai happily with a relieved sigh as she realized how attached she'd grown to them within weeks.

"Are you all right?" she asked worriedly as she checked him for any fires on his clothing, her eyes studying him like a mother bear. He and Altaїr were no longer the digital copies she commented or held one-sided conversations with (only when regarding Altaїr's tendency to hug walls) at home, turning into flesh and blood individuals who held unique consciousness just as she did. It was rather hard not to become emotionally involved as she spent every waking hour with them and learned the quirks of their personalities. Malik coughed loudly to clear his lungs of smoke and nodded hastily to show he was in fine condition, grasping her by the wrist to lead her away from the burning building. It was pitch black inside and he'd had a hard enough time finding the only escape route by following the rabble of noise from the villagers. Otherwise, he would've been inside bumping into objects and passed out from the smoke inhalation.

Vivian, however, refused to budge more than a few inches until the cranky eagle of an assassin showed himself but Malik informed her sharply, "You can't stay here. Come along!"

His strength overpowered hers and she was pulled away from the burning building, her free hand outstretching towards the open entrance in the hopes that Altaїr would emerge. She didn't want to abandon him but what could she do? The most that she could contribute was to reach the bottom of the stairs before suffocating in the smoke; needless to say, _that_ wouldn't help anyone. Either way, she didn't want to leave him up there all alone in case he'd become trapped and needed their aid. He'd kept her safe throughout the mission and she'd promised herself to return the same loyalty; otherwise, Desmond would be screwed big time.

Malik calmed down the watchful bystanders with an uncomfortably scratchy voice, assuring them that everything would be fine as he informed them that the Templars had no interests in Egypt except for conquering the lands by lies of peace. He instructed them carefully on never allowing them near the village and sending messengers for aid if they ever did return since their team would be heading south. While he spoke to the nervous villagers and a happy Amil hiding behind his family, who was ecstatic to see the jerks gone, Vivian kept her eyes locked on the burning building and called out Altaїr's name every five seconds. If it worked for players during a Marco Polo game, it could help the assassin find his way back to them through the heavy smoke.

She was ready to grab a bucket of water and douse the flames in an attempt to find her way inside or make a clean route for him to escape but when a white blur leapt from one of the second story windows, she sent the ideas packing. Uttering a nervous squeak in fear that he'd break an ankle, she found herself stunned when he landed neatly on his feet and blinked with dismay that he acted exactly as his daring digital copy. Seriously, were the man's bones made of steel? The assassin stood up to casually wipe his lower face with the back of his hand and coughed quietly to breathe in fresh air, wiping gray blotches off his shoulders as if he was out on a normal nightly stroll. Truly, he didn't hesitate to astonish her. Vivian couldn't believe a mere human being had practically soared out of a building, safe and sound, and she didn't know whether to thank Ubisoft for making him impervious to damage that would kill a normal human being or faint at his true awesomeness.

Seeing him in front of her, alive and kicking, brought her immense relief and she didn't hold herself back from running forward to embrace him tightly. Altaїr didn't have time to react to the woman's unearthly speed and exclaimed in rare surprise to the sudden brown blob that had suddenly wrapped itself around him. He was tempted to shake it off immediately but once he realized it was Vivian mumbling inaudible gibberish against his chest, he calmed down since she wasn't the enemy (lethal wise, anyway). He'd never had anyone breach his personal space without his consent and he grabbed the back of her robes in the hopes of freeing her from his person. He found himself surprised to her iron grip as she clung on like a stubborn barnacle, prompting the assassin to keep yanking on the collar of her robe while Vivian sighed with happy relief, "You're okay. I thought. . .that you. . .you. . ."

Altaїr wasn't one for sappy reunions and although she wasn't screeching with earsplitting joy, he wanted to pry her off by any means necessary. Whatever force existed in the universe gave him the freebie when Vivian struck him on the shoulder the next second and snapped to reprimand, "Don't ever do that. When we escape, we leave _together_."

"I'm leader, I'm meant to protect both of you" he argued in return for the unexpected strike but didn't hold malice towards her as he could easily perceive that she was speaking out of her emotions rather than logic. They might clash heads like two rams with territoriality issues but he wouldn't leave an innocent civilian at the hands of the Templars. Malik's nagging somehow managed to sink into his brain as Altaїr remembered that they were all she had until she found her way home. He'd had his own cases of homesickness during his first missions as a new assassin but Vivian's case was special as she'd been flung across centuries. Lightly nudging her shoulder with his hand to return his own casual comeback for the strike, he turned to leave and ordered quietly, "Let's go, Vivian."

Her stern expression faded back to her soft features as she assured herself that he wouldn't accidentally impale himself somewhere anytime soon and clearly pointed out that this was _Altaїr_. The man was obstinate to die and resilient in all dangerous scenarios so her worry could be placed on the topmost shelf in a bookcase for now. Nonetheless, she obeyed him quietly and asked softly, "Are you hurt?"

"No, just a few scratches, I was looking for paperwork about their activities but nothing" he replied simply with distaste on his tongue as he'd risked his life to search through pockets and desks for any suitable information. The desks had burned thoroughly and he couldn't pry drawers open without risking third degree burns and the dead hardly carried anything of use on them. The dead leader would've been his prime choice to search but with the second level aflame and blocking the route down the stairs with falling debris, his only option had been to jump out the nearest window.

He didn't like leaving empty-handed but Vivian tried to lift his spirit by pointing out that the Templars were in Giza and opportunity would come to them in time. Pessimism and impulsiveness were two traits he was purging from his old life but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel discouraged when his trail ran cold. Vivian noticed the frown on his lips underneath his concealing hood and placed her hand on his upper left arm, squeezing it lightly as she reaffirmed, "It'll be okay, Altaїr. We're all prone to resignations but patience gives us hope to keep persevering."

His halfhearted grunt told her that her words would be considered.

They rejoined Malik as he conversed with the townspeople, apologizing for the destroyed building but it was inevitable once the Templars refused to give up. The villagers gratefully thanked the trio for the help, mostly Altaїr when they spotted the height defying man, and he allowed himself a small moment of glory. People that he'd rescued over the years simply offered a quick appreciative thanks since he was running off for safety to keep hidden from guards. The last thing he wanted was for humble civilians to serve as footstools or live in fear of the Templars which meant sacrificing one floor of a building was sometimes necessary for the good of mankind. He didn't have money to compensate for the destruction but he'd try his hardest to avoid it next time. . .or make Vivian do some chores around the village on his behalf- she seemed to like it. Malik nodded to his friend with approval on his soot covered face and remarked privately in a low voice, "We did pretty good, didn't we?"

Altaїr didn't get to answer as the town's government building exploded into the air, sending the frightened villagers scrambling for safety as smoldering debris flew everywhere. The three amigos took refuge behind a wagon as the heavy smell of smoke struck their noses and the falling debris created a shower of burning rain around them, leading Vivian to slap anything in sight before it burst into flame. The sound of wood splintering in a crackling fire echoed through the silent night as the building collapsed in on itself and before Malik could ask what had just happened, Altaїr mumbled under his breath, "So that's what that powder was."

"Powder?" both Malik and Vivian exclaimed in unison, the latter due to a certain volatile power of the past that could cause mayhem. They'd missed Altaїr's brief investigation of the burning second floor as he'd dug through Templar pockets for links to their whereabouts (although he found spare coins) and had spotted the peculiar barrel in the farthest corner of the room. The fire had not yet reached it but his curiosity was not worth the risk of his life so he'd fled to regroup with his companions. If he'd known it was dangerous, he would've brought it along with him.

"A small open barrel containing black powder, it didn't appear hazardous to me" the assassin answered simply as the other two gaped in horrified surprise to what he'd inadvertently caused.

Vivian blanched with shock since Egypt and Syria had claims of owning gunpowder at the end of the twelfth century despite history stated that the Mongols allowed its expansion as they conquered lands during the 13th century. There were many theories on how the spread throughout the Middle East and westward occurred so she had a hard time believing which concept was more plausible. Also, she truly had to wonder if AC history would match her own dimension perfectly since the assassins stated that history was tweaked or misinterpreted for safekeeping purposes. Ugh, she might need to buy another codex to write a separate journal entailing the true facts of history regarding AC land. Who knows, she might even make a future archaeologist famous one day when she leaves the realm and hides it somewhere safe. Nonetheless, there had been black powder owned by Templars which had blown the building sky high and they were inadvertently to blame.

Malik shook his head to the new predicament they'd landed in, trying to block out the noise from frightened (and angered) residents to hiss sharply, "You didn't think about checking?"

"I thought it was soot! Oh, and the rampaging Templars on fire trying to _kill_ me stole most of my focus" he justified briskly because he'd made an honest mistake with a substance that he didn't know could be used as weaponry. Was he supposed to know all of the volatile substances of the world? Apparently, the Templars had somehow managed to get their grubby hands on foreign technology and weren't hesitant to use it. His grim thoughts were disrupted by the residents scurrying to put out the blaze with buckets of water and Altaїr was more than ready to lend a helping hand of aid like the gentleman he was. . .until he heard them demand where his group was. A few curses aimed towards their 'meddling ways' had Altaїr changing his mind immediately and he turned to his partners with a nonchalant tone that betrayed urgency, "Are we all in agreement that we should leave? Preferably before they mob us?"

Vivian nodded hastily in agreement as she pressed against the wooden wheel of the wagon, huddled against Altaїr as she hoped they weren't discovered and dragged to a dungeon (did villages have dungeons?). Malik got the worst end of the deal as he was wedged against a bale of hay as they hid from the villagers and she pointed out, "Yes, we don't know what their foreign policy is against people who blow up public property and we might get executed without trial for possible manslaughter. We're not exactly law enforcement here."

"At least any leftover Templars that could lay blame on us were incinerated" Malik stated dryly with a deadpan glance of emphasis toward his friend and Altaїr nudged the dai in his left side to bury him further into the bale of hay. He kicked the grand master in the kneecap in retaliation as only his lower half was visible now but Vivian grasped Altaїr by the forearm before the two began roughhousing like children in the middle of a village looking for them. Malik spit out the yellow straw with distaste, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he glared at the smirking Altaїr and asked the two flatly, "So, _Giza_?"

"Giza" both Altaїr and Vivian agreed with hushed whispers to their new destination.

The three amigos disappeared into the shadows in hasty escape to wander into the night to find safety at another campsite, glad that they'd left their packs hidden in the temporary campsite before leaving. All in all, it had been a productive day by slaying Templars. . .somewhat. Each felt a sliver of shame for leaving the settlement to its own devices but they weren't keen of being executed for destroying property either. Altaїr guided his companions through the dark forest by the use of his eagle vision as his surroundings were highlighted for easier navigation and bit back a growl when Vivian grasped the back of his robes. He was ready to order that he was not her handheld candle in the dark until he saw Vivian's blue-white outline leading Malik's solid blue figure through the darkness.

Oh.

"Let's find camp soon because the temperature is dropping quite fast" Malik advised with a small shiver as the interior of the forest would grow colder throughout the night and a fire needed to be made to prevent them from freezing halfway through their tent set-up. They had been up rather late today so the best way to save time would be to share one tent and cuddle up like baby bears in hibernation (obviously, Malik would play brother bear to the other two).

Vivian wasn't keen of the cold wind blowing in under her skirt and would fight tooth and nail to sleep beside the assassins tonight because social norms were not a cause to endure hypothermia for. She respected the men's personal ideals and wouldn't be ethnocentric towards their ways but when a woman needed warmth, nothing beat body heat.

She tried to keep optimistic about their nightly hike by piping up cheerfully, "So, how long do you think it'll take to get to Giza?"

"You're not sleeping next to me" Altaїr stated bluntly without hesitation and she balked to his ability to read right through her innocent chit-chatter. She'd underestimated his long-term memory for insignificant moments since the first time she managed to sleep beside the trio had been at a stop outside Ramla (via the Via Maris trade route) and casual ramblings had been his downfall. While he'd been extinguishing the fire in camp, she'd jabbered on with sly intent and snuck inside the shared tent with Malik when he wasn't looking to curl up like a lazy fat cat. Rather than waste the last reserves of his energy, he'd kicked her on the butt and called it a night as he settled in beside her.

Vivian could only sputter like a dying car engine before gritting her teeth to reprimand humorously, "How dare you read my mind? Only _I_ have that right!"

"It's not very hard to deduce what you're thinking, you're becoming crafty" Altaїr explained with no amusement in his voice to her humor, pushing through thick bushes as he kept following the trail of marked trees. Once they made their way back to their entry point of trees at the village's west side, it was rather easy to find his way using his sixth sense. Vivian's fingertips clutched the back of his robes tighter as she hoped to score pity points and he dissuaded her with a lecturing tone, "You're not swaying my opinion. . .but I will allow it for tonight _only_ because I really don't feel like burying your frozen carcass early tomorrow morning."

She took that as a win in her book, despite his morbid words, but Malik muffled back laughter behind chattering teeth (he wasn't fond of the cold) to chide humorously, "You're the perfect sketch of a generous man, aren't you?"

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter definitely came out longer than the last but action packed with humor can lighten any dark situation. Like any innocent civilian, I couldn't have Vivian going gung-ho in their situation or otherwise, a woman going from zero experience to a full blown fighter would flow down the path to Mary Sue-dom ville. In the next chapter, we will have a blowout between Altaїr and Vivian because it's been a long way coming since the two met on that Jerusalem rooftop.

Thank you for reading my story and I appreciate each new fav/alerts from a reader which fuels my writing giddiness. As always, virtual hugs to my reviewers because I consider all feedback useful to my writing:

_Diamond1502_: Oh, I don't mind answering your questions. For Vivian and me personally, the gaming gods are basically the AI's in a game because we all get angry when we're trying the hardest levels. I decided to use it after playing Mass Effect 2 where my Shepard wouldn't crouch for me and she was killed by a geth colossus, figuring Vivian would be the same with her geeky nature. As for the moving pictures, I borrowed it from Harry Potter and Bleach since they're adjoined dimensions similar yet different from normal humans (one's for magic, the other for an Edo period afterlife). However, your question brought up the point to me that Altaїr has absolutely no idea what a photograph is so I'll be switching my use of movies to 'moving paintings/drawings'. I hope that clears up your questions and if you have any more, feel free to ask and thanks for enjoying my story.

_Linda Chicana_: Yep, Altaїr is a work in progress himself as Vivian doodles for fun while Malik has the most experience. He made his codex for the order and its future descendants so I thought, 'hey, why not let Malik and Vivian take a crack at helping him at it?'. They'll be teaching him a thing or two to make him a master artist. As for Revelations, I like the storyline (especially the ending relating to the first civilization) but I just love seeing Altaїr once more. I absolutely hate the fact that they made Maria look _nothing_ like her former self and changed Desmond's facial features too. Oh, Altaїr's accent now carries the Middle Eastern edge in comparison to the first game. I actually like Sofia, Ezio's love interest, because she's spot on to what I wanted Vivian to be when I first started the story due to her love for books so yay for Vivian matching up to a canon character.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: Thanks so much for loving this story, I'm so glad to hear it in your review. Yes, they changed Desmond's face- I hate it, I liked his Brotherhood features better. They also made Maria look horrible, I was almost happy to see her get offed by Abbas because she ruined the original Maria. The graphics are still wonderful, however, and I like the storyline far better than the previous game (for Altaїr goodness- especially when he jumps out a glass window).

_KrnYong_: I have a tendency to make kids either adoringly cute or humorously bratty. Altaїr's not a fathering type so having his pockets ransacked will have him furious. On the other hand, I could see him lecturing his kids about weapons being no-no's for kids and only for stabbing Templars.

_AnimeWolfAlienRaptor4_: Thanks for noticing, Masyaf is always a tricky one when I'm typing fast. And yes, go Malik because he's awesome and deserves more love than Ubisoft gives. lol

_Foreverafter_: No problem, I got the gist of it so don't worry. I was writing the hay bale and thought 'how could I make this funnier?' and a guy peeing next to Malik popped out as the answer. He just doesn't like hay and now, he added another reason why.

_Blue Fire Lady_: Thanks for loving the fanfic, I appreciate it greatly. Yep, Vivian brings laughter through an arduous adventure as she tries her best to fit in and cheer people up. . .but her inexperience in the AC world leaves her open to hilarious mistakes. I try to create as many quirky and parody songs as I can for her and they seem to work so I'm definitely glad for that.

* * *

**Next Time**:

Vivian's original optimism about their journey was flushed down the toilet when Malik informed them that Amil had told him Giza was a _two_ day journey from the village so that sent the trio downstream to the north. . .again. This time, Altaїr had been adamant about landing at the exact coordinates and commandeered the rowing with direct orders every five seconds. By the time they reached shore, Vivian had become conditioned to following his blunt orders but a few shakes of the head and a whack from Malik threw out the brainwashing technique right out of her ears. Altaïr had decided to transform into a turtle as he carried their canoe over his head as they treaded westward.

Altaïr wasn't in the best of moods after having a building explode behind him and running off into the darkness to hide like a cowardly Templar. Speaking of the metal devils, he gained _no_ new information from them! Also, walking through a humid forested area didn't help him unwind since his travel schedule would be pushed back by almost a day. He was an unrelenting walking machine as he carried the canoe all on his own while keeping the lead despite Vivian offered to help. She was eager to lend a hand just to see his hidden rage simmer a bit and even missed his sarcastic wit as he bathed them all with the silent treatment. Of course, he used the reason that she lacked upper body strength to accept her help and carried on with his new life as a turtle. She'd stuck around Malik at the front so they wouldn't worsen Altaїr's terrible mood and recited Tolkien's first book of the lord of the rings.

She had reached the part where the ill-omened Balrog awakened within Khazad-dûm and had shaped her hands into claws to mimic the dangerous beast as Malik stared with enthralled amusement. The history student could be quite the storyteller on the road and despite her reciting words weren't exactly knowledge, they were interesting nonetheless. Altaїr chose this time to interrupt her tale with a flat tone from behind, "Put Dumbledore Skywalker's tale aside-"

"Those are two different tales entirely, Altaїr" she stated sharply because they were two important tales of her generation and wondered if he'd said it just to spite her. He'd cried blasphemy and witchcraft to Rowling's story, breaking the wooden stick she'd made to imitate a wand and had asked nonstop questions throughout the Phantom Menace. By the end of it all, Altaїr _was_ the phantom menace. She turned around to walk backwards carefully, wagging a reprimanding finger to reiterate her previous campfire tales, "Harry Potter and Star Wars are totally separate tales. One about magic and another about the heavens-"

"I don't care about your tales, I'm living my own nightmare" he interjected tightly with a brusque tone because stories were the last thing on his mind at the moment.


	15. The Idiot's Guide To Being Kidnapped

**The Idiot's Guide to Being Kidnapped  
**

* * *

Vivian's original optimism about their journey was flushed down the toilet when Malik informed them that Amil had told him Giza was a _two_ day journey from the village so that sent the trio downstream to the north. . .again. This time, Altaїr had been adamant about landing at the exact coordinates and commandeered the rowing with direct orders every five seconds. By the time they reached shore, Vivian had become conditioned to following his blunt orders but a few shakes of the head and a friendly whack from Malik to the temporal lobe threw out the brainwashing technique right out of her ears. Altaïr had decided to transform into a brooding turtle as he carried their canoe over his head as they treaded westward.

Altaïr wasn't in the best of moods after having a building explode behind him and running off into the darkness to hide like a cowardly Templar. Speaking of the metal devils, he gained _no_ new information from them! Also, walking through a humid forested area didn't help him unwind since his travel schedule would be pushed back by almost a day. He was an unrelenting walking machine as he carried the canoe all on his own while keeping the lead despite Vivian offered to help. She was eager to lend a hand just to see his hidden rage simmer a bit and even missed his sarcastic wit as he bathed them all with the silent treatment. Of course, he used the reason that she lacked upper body strength to refuse her help and carried on with his new life as a turtle. She'd stuck around Malik at the front so they wouldn't worsen Altaїr's terrible mood and recited Tolkien's first book of the Lord of the Rings.

She had reached the part where the ill-omened Balrog awakened within Khazad-dûm and had shaped her hands into claws to mimic the dangerous beast as Malik stared with enthralled amusement. The history student could be quite the storyteller on the road and despite her reciting words weren't exactly knowledge, they were interesting nonetheless. Altaїr chose this time to interrupt her tale with a flat tone from behind, "Put Dumbledore Skywalker's tale aside-"

"Those are two different tales entirely, Altaїr" she stated sharply to his offense because they were two important tales of her generation and wondered if he'd said it just to spite her. He'd cried blasphemy and witchcraft to Rowling's story, breaking the wooden stick she'd made to imitate a wand and had asked nonstop questions throughout the Phantom Menace. By the end of it all, Altaїr _was_ the phantom menace. She turned around to walk backwards carefully, matching his pace and wagged a reprimanding finger to reiterate her previous campfire tales, "Harry Potter and Star Wars are totally separate tales. One about magic and another about the heavens-"

"I don't care about your tales, I'm living my own nightmare" he interjected tightly with a brusque tone because stories were the last thing on his mind at the moment. He had an entire order depending on him after leaving within months of his new rank as grand master and he would not fail. There were too many people, assassin and civilians, relying on his two years long (estimated) expedition and that heavy weight on his shoulders mattered more than her fictional tales, prompting him to shoot out his next order on the agenda, "We're resting at the nearest stream we find. I need to wash clothes so Vivian-"

"I know, have your salty scrub soap and cleaning brush ready" she mumbled listlessly since she practically carried everything but his clothes in her pack. His required items on a daily basis had already stamped a mental list in her mind and she'd known that after yesterday night's scuffle, they all needed to wash clothes. She was pretty much the unofficial pack mule of the group but didn't mind bearing the weight (it built stamina and muscles), except when Altaïr decided to exploit it for egotistical benefits. He grunted his halfhearted answer, not caring to acknowledge her monotonous reading of his required materials but he'd throw a fit if she didn't listen.

When they arrived at a steady flowing stream flowing west, Altaïr was more than happy to set their canoe down on the ground and almost praised the sky for seeing its calm blue hue. How people thrived happily in underground cities like Cappadocia was beyond him. He didn't know how nocturnal animals lived without seeing such a beautiful horizon every day as the sky displayed a variety of intricately stunning colors throughout its twenty-four hour period. Altaïr took a deep breath of fresh air as he'd practically felt like a living clam for the last hours but he'd only trust the canoe to himself. However, when he stood back up to fetch his materials from Vivian, he found a conundrum with his arms as they had fallen asleep pointing skyward.

Oh, how he hated seafaring transportation and its liquid treacherous mistress of doom. Frowning to his frozen muscles, he sighed glumly under his breath to ask his companions with a flat expression, "Um. . .could I kindly receive some help?"

Malik and Vivian stifled their laughter at seeing his arms stuck in the air and dropped their packs as they approached to help the scowling assassin. Vivian was ready to joke his arm felt like dry beef being twisted or sing a YMCA parody but kept it to herself since she had hold of his left arm and he wouldn't hesitate to maim her with his hidden blade and call it an accident. She massaged his arm gently from the shoulder join to the elbow in order to get his circulation running again, ignoring his hisses towards her as she created bothersome Charlie horses. Shaking her head, she muttered quietly about his stubborn nature on playing leader, "You could've let me help to ward this off."

She swore he growled at her with sharp jagged teeth fit for a starving panther and she backed away immediately like a meek mouse to seek shelter behind Malik. Jeez, you mention a little kind advice from the heart and he turns lethal- or maybe it was just her personality that brought his worst traits to surface. The dai paid no attention to the cowering woman behind him and merely pointed to Altaïr's leather pack lying on the dirt and stated firmly, "Go tend to your washing."

Altaïr grumbled under his breath for being reprimanded by Malik of all people because he'd expected a member of his order to aim a well-rounded kick to Vivian's rear end. He wanted to be inside of Giza and on track with his plans, not wandering another humid forest where he was swatting mosquitoes that wanted to feast on his blood. He received enough of that in every Templar encounter. Stomping over to his pack to emphasize that he wasn't pleased with their current situation, he ripped it open to pull out the dirty outer layers of his robes from yesterday which needed a wash after his recent scuffle.

Vivian and Malik were glad for the rest since they'd been trekking nonstop since sunrise and their canteens were fresh out of water, their throats parched for any cold drops of liquid that they could find. At this point in her new life, Vivian didn't mind refilling her canteen at open water sources because dehydration was not worth the risk but if she accidentally gained parasites. . .well, time would tell. Quite frankly, everything in the Middle Ages could just about kill you: a wildlife bite, poisonous insects (and arachnids), old water, undercooked food, spoiling food, the common cold, and even a daily stroll could have one robbed and killed. Vivian ripped off her leather shoes to throw them onto the nearest rock to let her toes wiggle in the air with unrestrained freedom, relishing the fresh air flowing between them in delicate strokes. Malik yawned to relieve some of the fatigue from the journey as he drank from his newly filled canteen, chuckling aloud when he closed the cork to say, "You're rather a free spirit, aren't you?"

Altaïr made a guttural sound in his throat from his end as he began to soak his dirty clothes in the water and Vivian chucked the round yellow ball of soap at his head. Of course with her awful aim, it struck him on the back of his left shoulder and he uttered a harsh complaint for her careless throw but grasped it with his lighting reflexes before it fell into the water. With a growl settling in his throat, he returned to his meticulous washing and ignored everything around him since her little jokes grated his ears like rusty metal against rocks. Vivian merely chuckled to seeing him work like an average man as he rubbed the soap over the dark stains, scrubbing the cloth against a flat rock to loosen the stubborn dirt. If he ever left the assassins, he'd be a pretty good clothes washing man in a town.

Since Altaïr was no longer listening to them or uttering his manly grunts, she answered Malik with a bright smile, "No, I'm quite normal for my time. . . .at least I hope so. The free spirit types are more artistic, I believe, I'm more of a scholar- choosing to learn about the written word to enlighten society about historical facts. Social norms have changed drastically in my time which is why I appear outlandish and brash to those here but I certainly don't mean any harm, I've simply become too accustomed to my old life. Since this is my new chapter in life, I'll try my best to only piss off Templars."

"Good girl" Malik chuckled to her playful joke and leaned back against a shady acacia tree to relax for a moment, slumping comfortably to give his legs a decent rest. He wasn't certain where the next inn would be since their destination was still two days away and he hoped their next target after Giza would not take longer, seeing as they had to reach the southern coast of the continent as their half point. Oh, why didn't he bring more books along?

Vivian took this time to clean her faithful pair of brown socks, grinning impishly at Altaïr to preen cheekily, "Do you still use the comfy socks I made?"

A manly mutter of 'yes' sufficed as he scrubbed his white shirt with a rough bristle brush to remove the persistent stains, frowning when they didn't budge and produced little gray foam in result. How infuriating! He would _not_ stand for stains of any kind and was tempted to change the order's garbs color entirely just to prevent the arduous job of stain removal. Vivian caught his frantic scrubbing as his teeth gritted in annoyance, her lips twisting into an amused smile to see him toiling over something so trivial and joked wittily, "Will the grand master be bested by a mere pesky stain?"

"I'd like to see you do better" he challenged snippily to protect his pride as she poked it with a sharp imaginary finger every time she aimed that teasing white smile in his direction. Her futuristic life probably deemed his work as futile but he wasn't going to forgo his dignity because this was _his_ era and he worked as hard as anybody else to achieve his goals. She unnerved him sometimes with her origins and he defended himself by confronting her because her lifestyle was deemed fit to live alongside the mysterious people who had created the items of Eden. Although she'd claimed otherwise, he knew that both cultures far exceeded his in advancements but that didn't mean he'd fall to his knees to spout compliments about their superiority. Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was not weak and refused to bow down to anyone, no matter how advanced they were.

"If I had my modern cleaning products, I'd beat you within thirty minutes of a good presoak and bleaching" Vivian replied smartly to return the jab as she cleaned her socks in a wooden bowl to lower the contamination in the stream for future visitors. Altaïr simply used his hands to cup water since he'd been too hasty begin washing that he'd forgotten to ask for their only bowl and wasn't about to in order to prove he was superior. It was petty, yes, but he really didn't want to ask her for anything unless it meant unraveling the secrets of the apple of Eden.

He snorted to her comeback since he knew nothing of her fancy language, her articulate words in his tongue breaking loose for a moment to give way to her true dialect. Her voice carried no accent to the similar words uttered by the English but she'd divulged pieces of her nation's history as the country tied into their formation. He was torn about either not caring in the slightest about her time or accepting the new knowledge that nobody else in his time had been granted; it was hard for the stoic Altaïr sometimes. Using his yellow soap to dab a coat of it over a gray stain on the left side of the cloth, he scoffed under his breath and replied haughtily without glancing at her, "You're delusional if you believe you can win, this is my world."

"I see your wit for challenges hasn't left" she sighed with feigned disappointment since all of their conversations always ended in debate, their tongues taking the position of polished swords as each fought to gain the upper hand. She wasn't the type to endlessly exchange challenges as she sought consensus to maintain peace- otherwise, she would've chosen a law or political career. Rinsing her sudsy socks in a bowl of clean water, she took the moment to glance at him and advised gently with a hint of playful humor, "You must maintain a calmer head, Altaïr, and I shall help you find the Jedi way to-"

He splashed her face with cold water in rebuttal and she blinked her eyes to clear them of their sudden blurriness, spitting out water to growl heatedly, "I didn't even get to say-"

Splash.

"The light side-"

Splash.

"Of the Force!" she finished indignantly with a low growl as her face was completely soaked and she wiped it dry with the back of her hand, containing her irritancy with a muffled growl in her throat. This wasn't what she'd had in mind to refreshing her skin. Cold droplets dripped down her sweaty neck, cooling the hot skin under her neckline as they managed to escape being swept away by her hand. The grand master simply kept washing his clothes without uttering a single word as she kept a scathing glare pinned onto his form but since she lacked the power of spontaneously setting people on fire, she finally hissed irately, "Ugh, I should've been blasted to the Old Republic."

"I've no idea what that is. . .but I do too" Altaïr grumbled sardonically to his luck in life as he'd been unwillingly saddled with the singing catastrophe and this time, she hurled a wet sock at his face. The dripping fabric struck his right cheek, sticking onto his smooth skin as his eyes widened to her daring action. She pretended as if nothing happened but Malik kept a careful watch on them as a farmer would a baby chick and a cat, almost tempted to shake his head when he saw Altaïr's eyes narrow into slits.

She scrubbed her remaining sock on a flat rock, ignoring the man spouting imaginary flames from his flared nostrils, and pointed out nonchalantly, "You're not a very cheerful man, are you? I understand it's due to your lifestyle but you have an entirely new horizon at your fingertips now that you're grand master. I'm certain the assassins don't want a _new_ reign of terror-"

Altaïr found offense to that immediately since he failed to resemble a Templar in any way and interrupted sharply to defend his order, "Al Mualim didn't rule with terror. How dare you-"

Malik sighed under his breath from his seat under the comfy acacia tree as he could already foresee the next argument just as Vivian shot back firmly, "I don't care about Al Mualim, this about you. I understand you carry a great amount of responsibility but it doesn't give you the right to talk to me like there's a stick shoved in your ass-"

"Go wash your insolent mouth before _I_ do it for you" he ordered coldly to silence her with a clear threat because her crude language infuriated him when directed towards him. Yes, he was being hypocritical when he insulted her psychologically with words but he'd yet to use vulgarity with her and displayed his yellow soap in insinuation. He wasn't afraid of washing out her mouth and had done so to a few recruits of the order who had become arrogant in their teachings when they believed themselves to be superior to experienced assassins.

"No, I have the freedom to speak and I've grown rather tired of your sass" she snapped firmly to show she wouldn't be walked over by a man of archaic times as she wrung her sock free of water. The cold water running down her wrists didn't simmer her irritation as she slapped the sock against the flat rock to squeeze out any last tiny drops before leaving it to dry in the sun. Smoothing it over the rock with a firm hand holding its annoyance restrained, she pointed out sharply with disbelief in her voice, "I'm not in complete awe of you and I should be, I should be licking your boots of awesomeness at this point! I've put my life on the line and you constantly dig my face into the dirt like a pest. You're," she frowned and murmured simply, "kind of a jerk."

The words felt oddly strange yet liberating leaving her mouth since he'd always held the awesomeness trophy in the gaming realm, pushing back both Ezio and Commander Shepard (and a few others). His image had been deflating for a while since their expedition began and for a moment, led herself to believe that her first fight in the remote village would improve his view of her to show she wasn't useless. Of course, that had been blown clear out of the water with dynamite when he mocked her slowness at fixing her tent (comparing it to an old turtle) since her muscles were sore from the scuffle. Had it really been her fault that she was inexperienced in battle? Altaïr, however, was incensed to her insulting words about him and snarled acidly, "You do _not_ get to speak to me like that, you insignificant woman-"

"A smart independent woman-" she corrected firmly to his personal opinion of her specifically, lacking any hesitation to be curt because he needed a good verbal thrashing.

Altaïr scoffed derisively to her arrogant claim because she was the most hardheaded woman he'd met and was thankful he hadn't been flung to her sordid realm instead. Apparently, mannerisms towards elders or superiors failed to be implemented in the banshee but he'd put her in her place when he hissed dangerously with narrowed eyes, "If you were smart, you'd know not to be cross with me."

"I'm not a child" she retorted between gritted teeth when his tone carried a chauvinistic edge and whether it was held out of general dislike or being an outspoken woman, it didn't matter. Her green eyes narrowed into slits when he muttered 'you fooled me' under his breath and she murmured with her own mocking tone, "Argh, I wish this stream was deep enough to drown you in."

Malik's eyes resembled a flying ping-pong ball as he observed both but knew Altaïr reached his boiling point when he threw the scrubbing brush onto the dirt with a frustrated growl.

"What kind of mother lets her daughter walk around with such a disrespectful mouth?" he demanded frigidly to open her eyes to the errors and selfishness of her futuristic ways. An assassin always kept a close vigilance and scrupulous investigation on a target and Vivian had received no less since the day she'd entered his life. His words struck the marker in Vivian's heart dead on target as he found her weakness, showing no remorse as he bit into her like a vicious cobra to a feeble mouse, "I do not see you living in this century for more than one hour without my help. Your behavior is outrageously shameful, especially when I'm the one keeping you safe."

Her cheeks flushed with mortification, her rampant emotions whirling between anger and guilt to his words because he was exactly right on the protection aspect. He didn't like her and despite her many attempts, maybe they were meant to simply tolerate each other as best. So much for the 'friend to the cool assassin' status she'd been hoping for like all AC fans of Altaïr. Vivian could only utter apologetic 'I's repeatedly as she tried to come up with a decent answer and he raised his chin to point out in condemning disdain, "Let me guess, the humility of apologizing wasn't taught to you either."

"You don't get to talk to me that way" she fought back hoarsely as her voice shook to his cold words, finding herself in unknown territory in this new form of arguing. Who was he to pass righteous judgment on her as if he knew her inside and out? Usually, they squabbled over little things to rile one another as they matched wits but never attacked each other personally. Gone was the light furrow of his brow and the dismissive tsk's from his lips, replaced by a full-blown expression of rage which quickly reminded her that this man was not the same one from her beloved game but one that could end her life if spoken to in the wrong manner. After all, women didn't mean much in the ancient times and Vivian pretty much qualified as one. It crushed her bubbly spirit to be seen so insignificantly by one that she was trying earnestly to help.

"Of course I do, without me, you are alone here" he spat matter-of-factly to her unique predicament since he held her lifeline, not the other way around, and she needed to embed that through her stubborn head. It was his constant vigilance and patience that allowed her to keep tagging along rather than leaving her stranded on the dirt road like a helpless newborn puppy with its eyes closed. At least the puppy would provide decent company and wouldn't turn its yips into 'Vivian nagging' as he called it. It was time to set his foot down as the alpha male of the group and receive the respect he deserved, dealing the final blow in their verbal duel by stating frankly, "You have _nobody_ to protect you so learn to obey instead of being a selfish brat that still clings to her mother's bosom. Is that why you write to her in that diary of yours?"

Malik jumped up from his spot to step into the fray immediately as his friend kept digging his own grave in her field of trust and frightening their companion was not in their best interests. Fear and distrust had no place within a fellowship, it had the tendency to fester the integrity of a group, leading him to snap with a stern tone that Vivian had never heard before, "Altaïr, halt your tongue!"

The words came too late as the damage was dealt and Vivian's eyes widened, the green hue brightening with stunned shock to his accusation. How had he gone through her things without her notice? When? She couldn't believe he'd done such an audacious act behind her back, betrayal rearing its ugly head for the first time and Vivian stammered in disbelief, "You. . .you went through my. . ._my_ personal things? W-Why would-"

"Do you really think I'm going to trust you out of my own goodwill? No, I kept careful track of you by being extremely vigilant" he interjected coldly without guilt or remorse for what had been done because any outsider of the order, especially one claiming to be a foreigner, would be subjected to it. The fact that Vivian unsettled him with her origins (which he was incredibly stubborn to believe despite her journal) also brought on further scrutiny from the assassin.

"Altaïr! What part of 'silence' do you _not_ understand?" Malik practically exploded to reprimand the man since his mouth kept running like a dog without its master's leash. He was tempted to smother him with his own pack to silence his harsh words but that would've exacerbated the situation and he needed to break the tension. His friend definitely needed a few lessons on self-constraint when it came to Vivian.

_He read my most personal entries and I wouldn't have dared to do the same out of respect for him_, she thought forlornly for being so gullible to trust him and felt more exposed than she ever had in her life as he knew all of her private secrets. It was wrong on so many levels! Her clenched fists rose to strike him but they faltered as she caved in at the last second, knowing that she'd barely dent the man and it would give him a reason to deal worse damage. Her eyes watered to the cold words dealt to her, the subject of her mother being the most vulnerable part in her heart. Her mind instinctively sought protection away from him to hide the sour truth and without another word, bolted from the stream to run into the forest surrounding them.

"Genius, Vivian, running into the forest without your pack" he snorted exasperatedly with a shake of the head, making no move to follow after and resumed his clothes washing. The woman could pent out her rage in the forest; he didn't care because he knew she'd come back eventually since they were her tether to survival. A second later, he exclaimed in shocked rage when he spotted Malik throwing his clean white robes into the stream as the dai whistled a nonchalant tune to catch his attention. He'd been playing mediator throughout the argument as Altaïr originally expected him to play the sympathetic party to Vivian but the assassin received a silent retaliation. Malik knew how stubborn his friend could be with the woman but he'd taken it a little too far, digging himself into a figurative grave in Malik's conscience. He received a tad of gratification when his friend shouted in outrage to his wet clothes flowing downstream, "Malik!"

"Did you suddenly forget _why _you went on a quest to regain your master rank?" the dai asked calmly despite the maelstrom of emotions raging around him in the aftermath. Vivian had run off to calm down, most likely, while Altaïr blocked his rage by furiously washing his clothes. Honestly, he was the father figure out of the three and had to force the two to make up for the sake of the mission (and his own sanity). Dropping Altaïr's empty pack on the ground with a soft thud, he pointed an accusatory finger and stated sharply, "You are allowing your initial mistrust grow into something deeper and must stop it before it corrupts you. She is not Al Mualim and will not turn on you with a blade the second your back is turned. You, however, probably shattered what trust she had in you. I suggest you find her before thieves wandering the roads do and you will apologize like the honorable man I know you are."

Altaïr wanted to argue until becoming mute but knew that Vivian would keep running just to spite him, she could be dramatic sometimes to push a point across. Of course, it could just be her strange upbringing. The woman irked him due to the unwanted skill of automatically assuming she knew what was best from her knowledge of him. This was _his_ world and he would make decisions that benefited all of mankind and his order above all else, even his own personal wants. Her main task was to find her answers and return home, a goal that benefitted him only for the secrets she knew. All she needed to do was answer his questions and keep silent about everything else. Otherwise, he would have left her in the care of his order within a privately safe quarter at Masyaf.

"This woman will turn my hair gray" he muttered under his breath for the insane things he'd done since meeting her because he certainly wouldn't be climbing trees for her. He'd drawn the line at climbing the same building three times like he'd done at Cairo and that was out of kind goodwill for the blushing woman whose robes had been torn open. Malik shook his head in dismay when he heard Altaïr's echoing grumbles within the forest and hoped his hotheadedness would fade by the time he found Vivian. Fetching Vivian's walking stick, he entered the cool water of the stream with his bare feet to fish out the discarded clothes before they wandered too far downstream.

* * *

Vivian ran in the direction of the clear road because becoming lost in the endless forest by running like a headless idiot was not ideal and found herself surprised at her running capability. Weeks ago, she couldn't walk for miles without rest or aching legs but her time among the assassins had slowly changed that. She'd never been one to hike, continuously stuck to her laptop or spending time in the university's library for intellectual growth, so her new life had dramatically transformed that aspect. It didn't take her very long to find the open road since the stream was visible from the distance and she decided to take a stroll in the direction of the city.

She needed to clear her distressed mind from Altaïr's awful betrayal of her privacy but he was regrettably correct about being her lifeline; that, she admitted. Her mind was blank on how life was on a daily basis in the 1190s and despite she tried her best to learn, an entire culture couldn't blend into her personality within weeks. It was impossible! Hopefully, whatever force had transported her to Jerusalem could remove her from the dangerous era sooner rather than later because she longed for home and each of her family members. There wasn't a day she didn't think of them, remembering her sister's last words in the hallway before she'd bonked herself on the head. The nights were even lonelier as she'd spent time watching horror or comedy movies with Natalya for sisterly bonding, wishing she knew how her family was doing more than anything. It made today an extra excruciating day for her to bear as she realized she was the only soul from her time existing in the entire world and had no inkling of where her own ancestors might be for a small sense of familiarity.

She walked onwards to place a little space between herself and the dangerous white eagle stalking the forest because she was liable to try to beat his face in with the current rage flowing through her bloodstream. Vivian wasn't one who was prone to violence towards another but the man had definitely tested her patience today. She'd stayed her hand from striking his ruggedly handsome face for the sole reason that he'd kept her safe since leaving Masyaf and despite the hurt he'd instilled, she respected his pledge. As she walked, she kept a careful eye out for snakes and other dangerous critters hiding within nearby bushes (even on the road) because a bite in the middle of nowhere would only lead to death. The lack of nearby doctors or advanced medicine frightened her on a daily basis but she'd pushed the thought to the back of her mind for sanity's sake. Unfortunately, Vivian's life would fall into the hands of a creature most cunning: her own species. Her walk on the empty road wasn't long underway when she met the floor, literally.

The flustered woman had failed to see a hidden trip rope horizontally placed between two trees to purposely cause a stumble. She struck the floor with a surprised undignified yelp as her arms took most of the damage in an attempt to protect her head. Her senses to the surrounding environment were slowly developing but anybody could feel a tripping tug so she knew that it wasn't an accident and definitely wasn't alone on the road. Before she could stand up, two rough sets of hands seized her arms and incapacitated the woman immediately by pulling them behind her back. Her feet kicked furiously at the dirt in an effort to throw them off but she was outnumbered by weight, seeing nobody in front of her but heard unknown voices from behind, "Steal whatever valuables she has."

Just what she needed: a band of ruthless selfish thieves rather than murderous coldblooded Templars. Fate really wanted to sour her day today with a never-ending marathon, didn't it? When they patted the back of her robes to find anything of worth, she became a wriggling eel as she tried to turn around to beat their heads in for breaching her personal boundaries. Her wish was granted as she was pulled upright on her feet forcefully and she faced four strangers in brown linen clothes (long-sleeved tunics and breeches) that served to camouflage them, their lower faces obscured by cloth. 'Middle aged ninjas'; she dubbed them immediately for their getups. Her lingering anger towards Altaïr was quickly projected onto them as the newest target, not that they didn't deserved it. She hissed with disdain for the lowlifes when the one behind her twisted her left arm painfully and she demanded harshly with a scowl, "What do you want? Who are you?"

"Your valuables" the leader declared roughly, his dark eyes appearing further deep set in his skull behind the cloth and hood over his face. Her own livid eyes of emerald narrowed as he observed her frazzled appearance, surprised to seeing a petite woman with a pale complexion traveling alone south. The sun had bronzed her cheeks but she was definitely a stranger in the lands of Egypt and for thieves who smuggled all kinds of goods for trade, the woman could guarantee a decent price. Vivian could hear the smug grin in the man's voice, sending a sickening shiver down her spine to its malevolence, as he stated matter-of-factly, "A woman traveling the road alone, don't you know thieves inhabit all major roads?"

"Aren't you supposed to attack at night?" she shot back crossly with thinned lips to her current predicament, trying to figure out a route of escape since she was heavily outnumbered. Her previous argument left some of the fighting spirit within her but she had to act calculatedly rather than recklessly or she'd end up dead in a ditch somewhere. In the empty roads towards Giza, it would be a long time before anyone discovered the dead and most would pinpoint it to starvation or dehydration- unless she was hacked to bits. It was a morbid thought she didn't want to believe but life could be ruthless and she was more than qualified to fill the role of a victim.

One of the men sneered with frustration and announced to his leader, "She has nothing of worth."

"I have a good head on my shoulders, how's that?" she snapped tartly as she tried to keep them from moving her anywhere by means of worthless conversation, trying to wriggle free. Her outlook for escape didn't look good as their grip only tightened with each protest and her fighting skills would be defeated against all of them if she riled the thieves. She'd no idea if Altaïr was on her trail like a bloodhound so her survival depended solely on herself, leading her to grit out tightly, "Release me or you'll pay."

Not her best words but she had to try.

"On the contrary, you've been caught so you will give us something of worth" the leader stated coldly, unaffected by her threat and she bared her teeth to appear more aggressive than she really was. It worked against bears, right? Vivian uttered a sentence full of profanity as their reward but the men only laughed to her tenacity, her oval face contorting into rage when the man ordered bluntly, "She will come with us. We can sell her as a slave and while on the road, she can keep us. . .entertained."

Knowing that was ancient code for lecherous assholes with a death wish, she played as dead weight to delay their leave but that simply had her grasped by the feet. Shifting into the wriggling eel mode once more, she started kicking whoever came near her to keep them at bay and tried to head-butt the assailant restraining her arms. Her shoulder joints ached painfully as they were pulled against their natural direction but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing her pain, gritting her teeth to swallow it deep into her stomach. Obviously, four men against a tied Vivian (without her walking stick) meant that she was easily overpowered without her companions to back her up. Oh, how she yearned for that handy walking stick. This led Vivian to scream her head off like an old asylum patient, yelling both of her companions' names for the sake that they'd hear and hadn't ditched her already.

She was struck against the face for yelling by one of the men, causing pain to erupt over the skin of her left cheek as stinging lingered with its burrowing little bites. Oh, how she hated the treatment of women in this era and domestic violence in her own time by chauvinistic men. She retaliated by yelling further profanities to the men about cutting off their privates and the man behind her barked acidly, "Cease your screaming or we will kill you. Nobody is on the road to hear you, wench."

"Join the list, I already have an assassin and Templars hunting for my head" she yelled back in defiance since she'd expected to be nabbed by real enemies, not parasites of society, and began her kicking spree all over again. She laughed maniacally when two hits landed on the thieves but her right foot was grasped, immobilizing the limb from causing further damage. When she was led over to the tree line where concealment was evident, she didn't hesitate to scream bloody murder because she'd rather risk death than go off with strangers that would sell her to the highest bidder.

The thieves wouldn't stand for that and the last thing she remembered before her world blacked out was a horrendous pain to the base of her skull.

* * *

Altaïr followed her tracks as the woman left obvious footprints in the dirt, the earth imprinted with her small feet as the first were deep which told him immediately that she was frustrated. Eventually, they'd faded into softer prints in the dirt but the scene changed quickly when he noticed her tracks disappeared in the middle of nowhere. Kneeling down, he studied the earth with his keen vision and easily distinguished that it had been tampered by human hands. His first thought was that she'd gone off on her own but Vivian would have headed for civilization, which was straight down the road as her previous footprints showed. The woman definitely lacked finesse so there was no way that the little historian developed the ability to fly or jump into trees.

The last and most probable didn't sit well in his stomach: Kidnapping.

As an assassin, he'd been taught to be an experienced tracker and he surveyed the area for further clues that would lead him to the wayward woman. The road was smoothed out completely but a color of brown contrasting against the grass caught his attention and he approached the spot. His brow furrowed as he spotted a discarded piece of rope, very thin in comparison to working rope, and he followed it with his eyes to see it wrapped around the bottom trunk of a tree. It didn't take a genius from his century to realize that it was set as a trap and with Vivian walking the path alone, she had most likely fallen prey to it. The question now shifted to where she could be.

He looked to both areas of the forest surrounding the path, looking for any manmade disruption in the foliage and found it on his side. A few feet behind him, he could see cuts on the branches of several bushes and ran his fingertips over the broken branches to determine they were made by a knife due to the clean cuts. His gaze lowered to the ground and found broken twigs littering the area with imprints of several pairs of feet which told him that Vivian had been kidnapped by more than one person. He pressed his lips together, biting them behind his teeth in frustration to the situations she drew him into and decided to put a rope around her waist to keep her at arm's length.

Following the clear path, he thanked the kidnappers' inability to conceal the crime within the forest but his own senses were heightened in comparison to the average man. The woman was damn lucky to have an assassin trailing her and it wasn't long before he heard a loud ruckus in the near distance. He felt pity for innocent civilians that fell prey to this debauchery and hastened his pace, unsheathing his hidden blade to attack his enemy. Concealing himself behind a thick tree, he snuck a peek over the side to verify that Vivian was indeed there as she shouted at one to keep away while kicking another man in the kneecap. He identified five men in brown garbs surrounding the woman, her body sprawled over the floor in a feeble position but she was a fighter to the end. When one of men stepped on her left leg to cease her escape attempts and grasped the end of her skirt with obvious insinuation, her protesting scream triggered Altaïr into action.

He didn't hesitate using his crossbow to shoot two men behind the back where the heart dwelled as his footsteps were nonexistent over the dirt. Unlike them, he could hide his presence flawlessly in all environments and he had no mercy for men who defaced all the virtues of humankind. The remaining three sprang into action to fight the new intruder but their daggers were no match for a man with an entire arsenal strapped to his body, dodging each swipe of their blades efficiently. Vivian's mind had already been dealt psychological trauma since the kidnapping and although her heart wanted to help, her mind had shut down to disassociate everything. To the assassin, however, help wasn't necessary with simple robbers and he dispatched them into the face of death easily without suffering any injuries.

With the last man dead at his feet, Altaïr sheathed his weapon and stepped over the body to seek Vivian for any injuries. Men roaming lonely roads were brutish creatures that only sought to fulfill selfish needs and gratification to ensure their survival. They were the kind of people that fueled the Templars resolve to use the pieces of Eden to dominate mankind with an iron fist. Disposing of them would save innocent lives for the future and Altaïr would justify the killings with that.

"Vivian!" he called in attention, running to her fallen form as she huddled against the trunk of the tree to hide from any incoming attackers. Her left hand batted at the air instinctively to repel anyone as she buried her head into her other arm, an action he'd seen on many victims of sudden violence. Kneeling down, his fingers grasped her shoulders gently to coax her out from hiding but she flinched immediately from the sudden touch. Her body stiffened to the physical contact, a whimper muffled within her robes as she pressed herself against the tree for safety. It was a futile move but she needed to recognize him and he grasped her shaking left hand with his to speak softly with encouragement, "It's me, Vivian. Are you all right?"

Her green eyes focused as the color white was the purest of all, his chiseled face visible under his hood as he leaned over her. The scar on the right side of his lips brought back everything to surface and she gasped to the emotional overload, embracing him tightly as relief flooded her that he'd arrived to help. The entire ordeal had frozen her mind in fear to the severe predicament she'd fallen into when she'd been dragged into the forest, struck repeatedly for defying them but he'd saved her. Like a true hero. Relief was sweet indeed as she cried softly against his shoulder, releasing the maelstrom of emotions in a cathartic moment to free herself from the awful memories. She was eternally grateful for his aid because her strength had been no match against theirs and Vivian uttered a weak 'yes' from between her weeping. Her shaking lips were ready to offer an appreciative thank you as it was the least she could do but Altaïr screeched it to a halt the next second.

"Running off alone was a stupid mistake, do you see what happened?" he scolded the woman for her idiotic choice but that was all he would say on the matter as she dampened his robes with her tears. They wouldn't be flowing down his clothes like rivers if she'd listened and stayed put. Internally, his words were the release of a shotgun firing off into the image of respect and empathy that she'd had of him- completely shattering it into a thousand shards as he bit into the jugular of her emotions. Disappointed, she released him quietly to silence her weeps of relief and leaned back to sit in her original spot.

That soothing numbness returned to cover the feelings of shame and hurt coursing through her as the emotional shock was still raw in her system. She could only avert her gaze to the floor to block his scolding words as her spirit was drained completely to defend herself against his usual attitude. What could she do when he was correct? Vivian allowed herself to be guided back to the road by the arm, keeping the fear locked away in her subconscious but any breaking twig or twitter in the forest switched her body into its fight-or-flight response. The whole day had turned into a huge mess by her doing and knowing Altaïr was downright furious was the last kick needed to send her mind into protective mode. Her legs automatically followed the assassin's steps, taking no interest in the surrounding forest until she was safely on the road where she'd been abducted.

The dai awaited them there as he'd grabbed their bundle of clothes for later drying when both his companions didn't return, depositing them in the canoe as he'd tugged it with one hand down the road, nodding to them for their safe arrival. Vivian found a small piece of relief at being reunited with Malik, saying nothing when he demanded to know what happened from Altaïr. There was no hiding the red marks on her face and the dust covering her robes distinctly told him that something had occurred in the interior of the forest, whether by his friend's hand or somebody else's. Malik was calm tempered in most situations but when those he cared for, whether in the Order or not, he held a fierce protectiveness over their safety.

"She was almost taken away by bandits but they've been dealt with" he stated coolly about the previous predicament, an easy problem to overcome for a seasoned assassin, but he was a little irritated for having to save her from another scuffle. It really felt like babysitting an enraged badger sometimes but as long as she was alive and kicking with her witty voice, he would be satisfied. Yes, he'd picked the wrong words to say back at the river and it backfired horribly as a comeback win but she didn't have to run. Only cowards ran. They could've talked it out like mature adults without drawing in dangerous people but the miffed badger had to make her last stand. He wasn't going to deliberate on what occurred, mostly for Vivian's sake, he looked south of the road to order, "We should place distance between their remains and us so let us continue."

Malik gaped like a fish out of water to Altaïr's dismissal since he could clearly see there was something wrong in Vivian's demeanor. The cheerful woman was withdrawn, not to mention that she looked as if she'd been in the middle of a bar fight. As a friend, he was worried for the inexperienced traveler but she wringed her hands over her stomach and agreed softly, "We should. . .distance is safer."

He was hesitant to keep moving because he doubted Altaïr had checked the poor woman for wounds and asking would've scared her off, given the forming bruises on her cheeks. When Vivian quietly followed, he was forced to grudgingly silence his opinions and continue the trek but stuck close to her in case of anything. She didn't utter a word throughout the entire walk as they followed Altaïr and he found her lack of questions or jokes to lighten their traveling mood a little eerie since her demeanor was quite peppy. Vivian wasn't fond of dead silence as they traveled and looked for ways to entertain their minds to pass the time, whether by enchanting stories, quirky questions, or humorous songs. Of course, enduring whatever she had at the hands of criminals obviously put a heavy damper on her mood but he'd stay by her side in case she wanted to talk. During his stay at Masyaf, he counseled new recruits that needed someone to confide their troubles with and being a previous older brother helped Malik connect with them. His friend had swept in a different change for conducting their order and uniting all by means of friendly solidarity was one way in comparison to the old ways of stoic solitude.

Altaïr didn't mind the silence one bit as it allowed him to ponder about his mission, giving way for last minute improvements, and safely carried the annoying canoe over his head. He'd be a happy man if he never saw a turtle for the rest of his life; it would be an ironic mockery. He would do a thorough check on Vivian at their next stop since lecturing her during fear induced repression was not the best way to speak to a person. His social skills weren't on the friendliest of sides due to his upbringing but he was trying to change, one day at a time. He'd been raised to be direct and thorough with all people he met, friend or foe, so that didn't leave much room for leeway. He could speak to Malik like that as they'd grown up together, he was familiar to his stoic demeanor while Vivian wasn't and her personality clashed with his repeatedly.

As for Vivian, her mind was trying to repress everything that occurred to keep it locked away with all of the horrible memories she'd endured since arriving in their time period. Unfortunately, the good recollections were being overpowered by the larger chunk of the bad and that mental vault was already at the point of exploding. All of the violence, the road dangers, Templars, lack of medicine, low hygiene, poverty; too much filled the part of her mind called the recycle bin. She wanted to have a moment to herself, a small piece of privacy to cry out her frustrations to rid herself of what happened but Altaïr was determined to keep on track of his quest. He was their leader and his word was law so all she could do was follow and keep shoving every flashback into the dark recesses of her mind. She discarded her hopeful moment for peace to obey the man since he was not fond of her in the slightest and she. . .trusted him as a companion but not as an individual. Not anymore.

* * *

Their restful stop came an hour later at a small clearing with a shady acacia tree located in the center, a gentle breeze flowing underneath its canopy. Malik used this time to free his feet from his hot boots to stretch his tired limbs while Altaïr rid himself of the heavy canoe once more, placing it on the ground with a weary grunt. Vivian found herself a nice rounded boulder to sit on at a short distance to have a small moment of peace to escape her worries.

Malik stirred from his sitting position as it brought sweet relief to his legs and calmly asked, "Are you all right, Vivian?"

"What answer would you have me give?" she murmured softly as she blocked away everything, trying to summon a smile for her friend since he was the only one who didn't judge her. Her way of life didn't bother him and she treasured his ability to adapt to her little quirks as she tried to adjust to life in the Middle Age. There was a lot of baggage attached to the little doll named Vivian and it was growing to the size of a mountain to cause mental asphyxiation. Her fingers wringed together over her lap, betraying the frenzied anxiety brewing internally, as her posture slouched forward in her sitting position. A small sigh left her lips as she focused on a patch of grassless earth and murmured dejectedly to reply, "I don't think I've been all right since I first arrived here."

Altaïr drank from his water canteen to replenish his parched throat before reaching out to grasp her arm and check for hidden injuries. Her face was already turning the angry red bruises purple but Vivian recoiled from his touch immediately, scrambling away her seat to blurt nervously, "Don't touch me!"

"I need to see if you're injured-" he insisted firmly since he'd seen her leg stepped on by a grown man and knew that it had to be aching on an untrained civilian like her. He didn't need for her to play hero by handling the pain in silence and later regretting it when she couldn't move on their journey. He might as well carry a lame baby foal over his shoulders at that point!

"I'm _fine_" she insisted curtly because she didn't want the assassin near her vicinity unless there was mortal danger and even then, she'd stick to Malik. He might be team leader but she was in charge of her body and would tend to her own wounds when shelter was provided. Finding another spot to sit at, she left the two men alone on the clearing to tend to their own business as she plopped herself down on a mound of grass to cushion her sore tailbone. She opened her pack to find a leftover piece of bread wrapped in a navy cloth, finding her moment of tranquility as she nibbled on it underneath the warm sun.

Altaïr was ready to try again but Malik raised his hand to halt his plan, dissuading simply with a firm undertone in his voice, "Not right now."

So he let it be.

Their first night of camp within the forest (they weren't risking staying on the roads) was the most uncomfortable since their first days on the road and that retraced to when Vivian refused to believe she was lost in time. Malik hadn't realized how much he actually talked to Vivian about everyday things when she kept to herself at dinner and was left to make chitchat with Altaïr about the mission. It was. . .he died a little inside. Malik found peace in the night by speaking on topics a common man would partake in but his friend was intertwined with the objective of their order; there was no separating the assassin and the man. Altaïr enjoyed the calm brought by the starry night but knowing where it originated from was unnerving since Vivian blathered on without cessation. He took care of dinner that night by hunting down two wild hares while Vivian simply heated bread when he asked her to do so. He received no sassy remark or a peep from her as she obeyed without question, surprising him as he'd been ready to fire back an insult.

Immediately after dinner, Vivian refused to engage in upbeat conversation as she kept to herself to prevent more unsightly brawls with the assassin and announced quietly from her spot in front of the soothingly warm fire, "I'm going to sleep. Good night."

Malik nodded quietly as he would tread carefully around the shaken woman, hoping that she'd sleep away her nightmarish troubles in a blissful dream for one night. He'd been reading an enlightening chapter from his book on basic medicine, educating his mind while on the road for future practice as the days would be long during their journey. Without a medic on hand at all times, Malik would supply his knowledge for 'first aid' as Vivian called it and other irksome injuries that could be mended to prevent infection or worse damage. His pleasant nightly chats with Vivian were cancelled for today which led him to choosing the written word for comfort and agreed amicably with a sincere smile, "That would be best, Vivian. I am here if you need anything."

She managed a grateful smile to his offer as it was a small hand of comfort in the unknown lands of a world that wasn't hers, yet. . .ironically, it was. Time travel was a fickle entity. Her gaze lingered on watching the orange flames dance wildly in the fire, quickly remembering the socks she'd been washing in the morning and asked hesitantly, "The. . .I lost my socks, didn't I?"

"No, they're drying on the line" Altaїr answered simply as he poked the fire with a stick to renew the orange glow between the wood, glowing embers joining the flames in burning snow as he incensed the campfire. He preferred being cozily warm before heading to bed to sleep away his stresses in life and Vivian flinched to his voice, especially when the flames rose in addition to it, reminding her of a villainous scene from a movie. She retreated further into the shadows until she found refuge inside her tent, scurrying inside before anyone could utter another word.

She fixed the crumpled blankets with a quick hand to settle in for the night, the comforting light from the campfire filtering inside through the tent. Her hand brushed over her handy diary as it often became jumbled between the sheets during hasty clean up in the morning and she picked it up, opening it to peruse the private pages. It had been desecrated without her knowledge, revealing her innermost vulnerabilities in thought, and she resisted from tossing it outside into the open fire to prevent future humiliation. She'd worked hard on saving her coins to buy a decent journal and she'd put effort into her writing, learning how to use the tools of the era to write on the crisp thick paper. Due to the First Crusade, paper manufacturing in Damascus had become interrupted but she'd managed to feel the thinner paper between her fingers back at Masyaf while Egypt's paper was thicker, almost quilted. She liked the feel of the latter. Living in the 1190s was both a shock and dream for a historian in the making but at the moment, Vivian wished that whatever summoned her there should've picked another person entirely. Picking up her linen wrapped charcoal piece, she pressed it against the crisp paper and wrote in cursive writing,

_Dear. . .I might as well put _his_ name on this since he'll read it eventually,_

_I washed clothes in a river miles from Giza today. I'm getting better at whitening my clothes by leaving them in the sun to loosen stubborn stains and the gritty rock salt helps. I. . .Altaїr found the journal and confronted me, I couldn't believe he'd done such a heinous act. He said. . .many cruel words that I never thought I'd hear from him, not against. . .I ran like a frightened cat and was kidnapped. You and dad must be proud of this chicken brain- even I wanted to kick myself. You'd think I'd be smarter at this point in life after seeing too many clichéd teenage horror/suspense films but nope. Kidnapped, in the 12__th__ century. . .that's a new one for me. I. . .I'm trying to keep my mind sane but so many things have happened and to relive it all, I can't. . .I. . ._

She closed the book swiftly with a stern hand, throwing it aside as she hyperventilated to the horrible events of the day as a switch went off in her mind. So much had happened that would drive any normal person towards a breakdown, whether mental or emotional, and Vivian found herself teetering on the edge despite her fierce attempts to stop it. No sane person could adjust being blasted back into the dangerous past with a calm attitude and her logic for reasoning was slowly cracking at the seams. With a shaky hand on her forehead, she pulled back the warm blankets of her makeshift bed with the other and rolled inside without a care that she hadn't changed out of her current clothes. She needed warmth and security against her fears which only the safe haven of sleep could provide.

Outside, Malik placed a maroon ribbon on his current page as a bookmark and spoke quietly to prevent being overheard, "We need to keep an eye on her, Altaïr. Tread lightly in your manner of speaking, I believe she is rather upset with you-"

"I saved her, she should be praising me-" Altaïr grumbled matter-of-factly to his heroic act but remembered her relieved squeals when he'd found her. She'd broken down in his arms to weep openly and he grudgingly admitted to himself that his reluctance for sudden physical contact had instinctively caused him to reject her grasp. After he'd bluntly shared his opinion to quell her erratic behavior, her demeanor changed drastically and it didn't take long for him to put two and two together. Ugh, he absolutely hated when he was in the wrong and apparently, he'd ruined his chance to restore their old tug-of-war relationship. He poked the fire with his stick to pent out his sudden irritation for digging himself into a figurative hole with Vivian and flatly, he reluctantly stated with thinned lips, "She's upset with me, isn't she?"

"You're learning, this time I didn't have to point it out" Malik humored him with a small grin hitching at the left side of his lips since Altaïr wasn't overly fond of Vivian. Personally, he had no qualms with her as their conversations were easygoing, ranging from all topics as her friendly attitude kept him entertained rather than bored. She was slowly becoming his unofficial sister and with her lack of guidance in the world, he took her under his wing to educate her on the inner workings of their society. The grin slowly crossed over to the right side of his lips, his teeth glinting against the glow of the fire, and he feigned a sigh of disappointment before stating nonchalantly, "You have no skills with the fairer gender, my friend. Both of you need to find coexistence before we arrive in Giza tomorrow so start thinking about your apology. I'd start with the breach of privacy."

Altair grimaced visibly in distaste, his hood falling further lower over his face since he wasn't the best at apologies- even issuing one made him uncomfortable. However, he didn't want to see Vivian moping like a forlorn little sheep without its herd so he would start mending the emotional wounds tomorrow morning.

That languishing tiny sheep would turn into a vicious badger with a fierce bite under the eagle's dangerous talons once tomorrow arrived.

* * *

**A/N**: One of the longest chapters to write, long enough that the next part had to be transformed into another chapter but hilarity will ensue despite the little angst moment. Frankly, if a person was shot back into the past, they'd freak out to the humongous culture shock- especially if you're not Syrian born- so it was only a matter of time before Vivian had her first mental break. Thankfully, the helpful Malik is there and Altaïr will fix everything in his own way in the next chapter- by unwillingly locking Vivian in a room with him until they resolve the matter. After that, it'll be smooth witty sailing for the two as they nab the piece before heading to Sudan.

_Diamond1502_: No problem and if you have any more questions, feel free to ask.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: I know, I miss old Desmond's face too. Or it could just be that his new beard is fuzzy enough to change his facial structure, I don't really know.

_Linda Chicana_: Yep, Altaïr is the ultimate assassin and a ferocious eagle but he'll soften towards Vivian slowly like a glacier. I really liked him in revelations as in his old age, he stated that he wished he could've cast aside his role as an assassin decades ago but in his heroic youth, he believed he could save the world but turns out that evil will always arise. Fortunately, Ezio was able to retire the blade.

_Foreverafter_: I love Malik too, may he always be the mother bear between those two.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: I'm glad I've done Altaïr justice since he's quite a stoic character in comparison to the wittily charming Ezio and benevolent Desmond but Vivian manages to crawl her way under his skin to pester him. I try to use humorous titles since the story's pretty much packed with humor most of the time- except in the end of this chapter.

_NoOne_: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed reading every part of it.

_Lilinuuh_: Thank you for loving the story, Vivian was created to please the masses with her eccentric humor. Wow, you stayed up pretty late to read it- I appreciate it heartily as I've done the same with other fics myself.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Poking an Enraged Badger_

Altaїr's amateur acting paid off for the first time and Malik really did get a tiny room (he was pretty sure it had been a cleaning closet once) but he only needed a bed to sleep since their plans would take place in Altaїr's room. However, Malik held doubts on his friend's ideas for reconciliation and didn't hesitate to voice it. He'd asked him whether it was a good idea to share a room with a woman who despised him at the moment but Altaїr was certain he'd turn everything around. . .or ruin it beyond repair. Either way, he was not quitting until he achieved his desirable outcome.

"Right now, she's a mad badger that's been starved and cornered- I plan to change that" Altaïr assured confidently as he fixed enough food for the night on a table facing their only window. He was already hungry enough to eat some of the dried meat but restrained himself until the Vivian problem was resolved. The robed assassin covered the food with cloths to keep it sanitary, ready for availability if his enraged badger turned ravenous and ordered carefully, "No matter what you hear, you must _not_ allow the door to be opened."

With the plan underway and explained, he ordered Malik to lock the door from the outside to prevent a hasty escape from the woman and the dai hesitantly complied- he really hoped they wouldn't be kicked out for disturbing the peace. Hopefully, Vivian wouldn't be too enraged with him in her present condition but Malik truly believed they needed a breakthrough into friendship because tension would only hinder their journey. From inside the room, Altaïr set his weapons aside under the bed because a mad Vivian could not be trusted with sharp weapons in the open. Grabbing an orange-red apple from the platter, he bit into the sweet crispy fruit to replenish his energy.

Vivian has changed into her loose assassin pants, courtesy of her unexpected entrance in the realm, and a brown linen tunic that was rather large for her petite frame but beggars couldn't be choosers in ancient times. She was exhausted from the long journey and planned to lie in bed like an old hibernating bear, yawning into her right hand as she left a small nook in the wall that she dubbed the 'changing spot'. Being the only woman did give her a shred of self-consciousness when having to find a place to change. Noticing Altaïr fiddling in the far end of the room, she directed the cold shoulder towards him and headed for the door to see where Malik had gone. Usually, he was nearby with a book in hand but the place was void of his presence. When her hand tried to open the wooden latch, it didn't budge under her grasp and she used her other hand to desperately pry it open but received squat. She was ready to throw her weight against it when Altaïr's voice informed calmly, "I wouldn't try that. The door has been intentionally locked-"

"Templars?" she asked worriedly as her posture shifted defensively and backed away from the door suspiciously in case anyone burst in without notice. He shook his head to the woman's odd crab dance around the doorway, her hands already resembling the crustacean as he wondered just _how_ that was supposed to be threatening. Apparently, there were many things about her that baffled Altaïr.

"No, I locked it myself because you and I" he explained smoothly as he grabbed a wooden chair to set it at the bottom of the bed and sat down neatly in it to finish plainly, "are going to have a talk."

Instantly, she was reminded of the first fear inducing interrogation and objected shrewdly, "No! If I haven't made it clear by now, I don't have anything to say to you on a personal level. You want answers to questions on your quest, fine-"

"We need to coexist-" he pointed out firmly to conquer the fear dwelling within her and the apparent abhorrence towards him. Vivian, however, wasn't having any part of it.

"We tolerate each other, that is enough" she stated simply and returned to jiggling the wooden latch despite she'd no idea on archaic locks. Altaïr pulled his pack open to grab his handy rope, quietly tying it to the nearest bedpost for security before bolting out of his chair towards her. His hands made quick work of tying the rope around her waist and although she struggled like a mad cat, he knotted it behind her back to prevent her from ever leaving. Her patience boiled over and she punched him on the left shoulder, not caring that he could end her existence with a flick of the wrist and exclaimed, "How dare you? I'm not cattle, you brute. I should scream my head off and have you arrested-"

"I'd rather you use an indoor voice to hide our presence and insult whatever pleases your fancy" he interrupted simply and her cheeks puffed to being bossed around. She almost resembled a ruffled feathered hen but he said nothing of it, stating directly, "You and I must place our hostility behind us and yes, I know I am in the wrong this time. So, will we talk willingly or will I have to keep you tied up?"

"You do know this isn't helping your cause" Vivian drawled sarcastically and he untied the rope from the bedpost in a show of good faith. What he didn't expect was for her to it as an extension to whip his legs and he ordered her to stop immediately with a stern voice. Reluctantly, she obeyed since seeing him imitate a dancing monkey wasn't as amusing as she'd originally imagined and pointed out, "You chastise me for talking since I arrived and now you want me to talk? You're a very contradicting man."

"Yes, I've been doing that a lot recently" he shot back grimly to his choices as of late but lightened his tone since he was there to rectify his mistake and seek peace._  
_

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_Thank you for reading my story and have a wonderful day or cozy night from your part of the world.  
_


	16. Poking An Enraged Badger

**Poking An Enraged Badger  
**

* * *

Altaïr wasn't the best man on Earth when it came to heartfelt apologizing and with Vivian being his verbal foe of all time, he would be walking over glass shards laced with acidic lemon juice. To help him with his interpersonal problem, he lowered his white hood to lower the chances of appearing hostile or distrustful to the sullen woman. He shivered lightly under his cozy robes when the cold morning air struck his face, unaccustomed to walking through open land without his concealing yet protective hood. He wasn't comfortable displaying his identity in the open as secrecy was crucial and quietly, he approached Vivian with silent footsteps as she sat in the dirt while eating breakfast. They had bought a small bag of oats in Cairo and she'd used it to make hot cereal, adding pieces of fresh fruit to sweeten the taste since honey was absent.

"Good morning, Vivian" he greeted calmly with a polite ambience, hoping she'd turn around with a cheeky little smile so he could forgo the conversation but that didn't happen. Her incident wouldn't be forgotten easily, it seemed. The woman merely returned the same words quietly without glancing back, shrinking into her spot as she offered Malik a cup of hot mint tea. If that wasn't a figurative kick to the ass, Altaïr didn't know what was.

The dai kindly accepted with a friendly smile but Altaïr shot him a demanding look over Vivian's shoulder that clearly stated he needed privacy to summon his courage. Malik found it hilarious that a mere woman flustered the grand master rather than their mortal enemies while Altaïr cursed the sympathy she was stirring within him. Assassins were supposed to be stoic and efficient, right? He was certainly changing since the day he set out for his redemption quest more than a year ago and silently thanked Malik with a nod when the dai stated he had to finish packing his tent to resume their journey. Giza would soon be in their sights and they could begin searching the ancient pyramids that Vivian spoke of.

"Vivian, I want to apologize for what I said back at the stream" he spoke evenly as he tried to keep his hands still, occupying them by fiddling with the maroon sash around his waist since serious talks with women were not his forte. They naturally tended to either attack or flee at his presence; they were anomalies to him. If this was an interrogation, he would dominate mercilessly without hesitation as he had during their first meeting but he was far out of his comfort zone. He'd never found himself stumped like he was at the current moment, hoping that Vivian would lead him in the conversation in order to resolve his mistake, and spoke slowly, "What I said was atrocious and degrading-"

"But you meant it, you've set out to prove me worthless since I first arrived and rub my face with it" she interjected simply without raising her tone while stirring her hot cereal with a wooden spoon, the taste bland on her tongue. It was a depressive sensation that she didn't want to endure nor fight its soothingly numb temptation as her mind wanted to fortify itself in a shell that nobody of that era could reach. Was it so much to be asked to return home? Her peppy demeanor had hit a definite standstill since yesterday and she pointed out bluntly, "Why apologize for words you meant?"

She was good at fueling debate, Altaїr would give her that, but he was wrong in this instance and would grudgingly swallow his pride to rectify it. He tried to apologize his way through it with subtle reasoning without pinning extreme blame on himself and simply offered his opinion, "But it doesn't make it right. I am thorough in my investigations for the truth and despite I broke your privacy, it does not grant me the right to insult you about it. Your mother means much to you?"

He was met with tense silence, quietly watching as her shoulders squared defensively and he ignored the evasion by continuing on with a calm tone, "I will not pry. I've never trusted anybody outside the Order and the only one that I have tried to kill me until I proved the Templars wrong. You have not tried to kill me once since we've met and from what I read, your actions, and your harmless behavior. . .I am going to place my trust in you."

_That should instill her with my trust because she's been prying it from me since day one_, he thought with satisfaction to his chosen words to cheer up the woman and show that she wasn't a useless burden to his team. Unfortunately, Vivian was beyond the point of acceptance to his offer and resisted from mouthing off about his contradicting behavior. There were times she wondered if he held a personality disorder or a hidden identity in that deadly mind of his.

"Once, I might have cared to have it. . .but you're not the man I imagined" she declined quietly since he'd destroyed all of her beliefs about his digital awesomeness and wanted to be home, curled up in her warm bed while playing as the silent animated assassin. Her dreams of wandering the AC world as a happy sidekick on a fat horse riding alongside the deadly assassin had fallen flat as the reality was bleaker with less pizzazz than imagined. It was _so_much better to read about it on fanfiction rather than living it. Dropping her wooden spoon into the bowl, she licked her dry lips and stood up to pardon herself from his presence, "Excuse me, I've lost my appetite."

Vivian left the area without another glance as she decided to finish her meal in peace within her tent where he couldn't reach her without getting a foot in the face. She burrowed herself inside like a safe mole within its den as she closed the flaps to give herself some privacy and to be free of wandering mosquitoes. Altaїr stabbed his cereal with murderous intent to pent out his frustration over losing her attention and grumbled tightly, "Why are women such difficult creatures?"

Malik chuckled softly with sympathy as he sipped his tea and advised, "Keep trying."

The group continued their travel onwards to Giza with Altaïr trying his best to converse with Vivian the whole way there but she only participated in brief replies, evading any type of personal topics. Malik even tried to encourage the two to carry the canoe together for a while to mend their dispute but it was accompanied by uncomfortable silence instead. At their first stop along the empty road, Malik took the time to approach Vivian to gently coax her out of her sudden invisible shell and gingerly asked, "Vivian, I hope you don't think of this as intrusive but you're not yourself since you returned from the forest. . .it worries me. Would you like to talk? Even if it's to cry or yell, it could be very helpful for you."

Her gaze softened to his offer since his demeanor was a stark comparison to the broody assassin carrying the canoe from up ahead. Malik was the bright candlelight at the end of a long hallway that filled you with comforting warmth while Altaïr was a relentless black hole that crushed you into tiny star stuff. She was almost tempted to imagine him as an old overlarge tortoise snapping its jaws at nothing to privately retaliate but uttered quietly to decline politely, "Malik, I could _never_ yell at you- never in a million years. You've been nothing but kind to me since I arrived, it would feel like betrayal."

He smiled with gratitude since he'd never found an acquaintanceship outside of the order due to the independent solitude Al Mualim had enforced. It was a new chapter in his life that he liked but with Vivian being an inexperienced civilian, her life would be prone to dangerous moments and battles for life or death. Life wouldn't be easy for the woman, especially when she was traveling alongside assassins wanted dead by Templars and smiled genially to offer his own thank you, "I appreciate your trust in me, Vivian, but I am here to help you as a friend."

She could never deny the dai with the kind face, blaming his innocent appearance, and hesitated for a moment before admitting quietly, "I've underestimated my survival abilities here since the beginning, trying to deny this existence altogether from the start, and it almost cost me my dignity along with my life yesterday. It was a traumatic experience that has shaken my courage considerably and I hate the fact that I'm weak here. I don't like being a burden on anyone and I definitely abhor being powerless against danger to myself or people around me."

"You're a civilian, Vivian, we were raised to be assassins" he tried to reason with her logic regarding her nonexistent fighting skills because the poor woman did try her best despite Altaïr's nitpicky teaching. She shook her head because softening the truth wouldn't help the matter and being productive was what she needed to be- a transformation was required to tackle down each fearsome obstacle that presented itself to her. Altaïr didn't back down from anything and although they weren't on the best of terms, she admired that intense determination; not her shameful crippling fear.

"And I must learn to carry myself as an efficient team member that isn't impulsively stupid at decision making" she pointed out firmly with self-loathing because the whole point of journeying alongside them was to learn a new way of life and a solution home. How could she be of any use if her defenses were atrociously lacking? She couldn't lean on them for help forever without adding in a little help of her own to show her commitment. Otherwise, Altaïr would be correct in his assumption that she was worthless pond scum and would be better off tying a leash around her waist to make sure she didn't accidentally get herself killed. She wiped her brow clean of any lingering sweat droplets as the day turned out to be a warm one and sighed softly under her breath, "I'm not a child, there is no excuse to hide behind."

Malik sighed softly because he had no problem with her skills since she'd helped them quite well at the village, given her background. She would benefit from defense training from Altaïr but he would probably have to do it himself to instill the confidence she lacked; her heart was in the right place but a comfort zone needed to be established to produce growth. If he could patch the two back together, they could learn from one another but fire would be achieved faster from using two rocks than the two reaching consensus. It really came as no surprise as to why he was the negotiator of the group and he put his word magic to work as he spoke softly, "Altaïr regrets breaching your privacy, he's rather protective over his trust now but I know you're trustworthy. I am very sorry for what he did-"

She smiled sincerely to his words, the back of her witty mind itching to tell Altaïr that he could learn a thing or two from Malik and interjected gently, "You've done nothing wrong so there's no need to apologize. If anything, _I_ want to thank you for always giving me the benefit of the doubt despite how crazy I was at the start- or how I am at times- but you've always treated me kindly. Kindness and humility strengthen one's spirit and it's something that the Templars can't take away from you."

Altair watched them set out together on the path and grumbled under his breath for lacking the socializing skills that Malik naturally held. He almost cursed aloud for feeling envious of his friend since having shortcomings struck his pride and being agoraphobic, unable to swim, unnaturally afraid of pigeons. . .he didn't want to add more to his hefty list. Malik and Vivian easily got along since day one while he was fighting her half the time but it was better to find a solution rather than poke deeper into the problem itself. If so, he was certain she'd bite him right on the hand for prodding into her privacy (again) and would cut all possibilities for reconciliation. For now, all he could do was lead the way by himself and resent his newest temporary friend, the canoe, since inanimate objects wouldn't attack.

* * *

A few more hours of walking and the beginnings of the late afternoon brought them to the outskirts of Giza as the city's soldiers were stationed at the border to protect the land from criminals and foreign enemies. Altaïr had never been happier to see a foreign city in his life after feeling lost in an alternate realm like Vivian for the days of nonstop travel and almost ran into the district with childish glee but restrained himself. An assassin couldn't draw attention and running manically in a straight line with his arms wide open would obviously have him shot full of arrows before he reached the entrance and bleeding to death. Giza separated its great ancient city from the outside with a similar limestone wall but where Cairo's border was of symmetrical height and smooth limestone, Giza's walls held watchtower columns at each bending corner and the stone was textured by the age of time. He'd often heard of the ancient kingdom where pharaohs ruled, immortalizing themselves with pyramids that withstood time (even to Vivian's future as well).

Vivian's initial fear of her environment lapsed as her historian itch picked at her brain and she gazed at the beautiful columns that pierced the sky. For the first time since meeting, Altaïr forcefully wedged himself between his companions to face her and Malik found himself surprised to his intense determination. He said nothing about being brushed off when Vivian took notice of his white garbed friend, allowing the two a foot of distance and heard Altaïr inform helpfully, "Climbing columns like that is very dangerous, you know. The materials used for this wall, however, are quite good in gripping and-"

Vivian moved forward into the crowds to occupy herself elsewhere and Altaïr's mouth slacked for being left alone in his spot, finishing despondently between thinned lips, "And you _completely_ ignored me."

"You've done the same towards her when her opinions irritated you" Malik reminded with light humor in his voice to the many times Altaïr had left Vivian babbling about history and heard a disgruntled growl from his friend. Altaïr followed after her with the efficiency of a bloodhound before she became lost because he would not fetch her with a happy grin on his face. He grumbled inaudibly to the recent miserable woes in his life, hoping he didn't whack anybody on the head with his canoe as he entered the city. Their enemies were dwelling within one of its many districts but he knew the best answers to his mission would come from the pyramids themselves and hopefully, another piece from within. If not, he'd dangle a baby kitten over Vivian's head to keep the cute fur ball painfully out of reach just for leading him astray. His group needed to find a place to rest for the evening because venturing into the heart of the city at the upcoming hours would not bring answers with quiet streets that would prove useless for Malik's investigation and he wouldn't allow Vivian to venture anywhere alone.

However, he was free as a bird to roam Giza's rooftops during the night.

* * *

The trio entered a small cozy inn after finding a small trading post where they managed to sell any loot or worn weapons they gathered from the battle and restocked on their items. Altaїr had tried to balance their rocky friendship by buying her an apple with his new coin but his hopes at reconciliation were dashed when she gave it to a nearby horse as a treat. Well, at least the mare enjoyed his token. Everything he tried since morning failed horribly and he was ready to give up on understanding the foreign woman until opportunity knocked in the form of an inn as they would spent the night there. If he could share a room with Vivian to clear the air entirely, there would be a chance for a breakthrough and he was going to seize it.

The air was thick with spicy herbs and Vivian's nose itched to the barrage, sneezing into the sleeves of her robes before slowly adjusting to the new scent. Focusing her nose on the good smell of cinnamon within the airborne medley, she placed her pack on a metal hanging rack as they were about to check in. The men were ahead of her as they approached the desk but a sudden crash placed them all on alert instantly, turning around to see what caused the noise.

The baggage rack had managed to become unhooked from the wooden wall with the weight capacity exceeded (especially with her fat packs) and laid in a heap at her feet. Vivian glanced around the room as all eyes were on her, cheeks tinting with a rose hue to the sudden attention, and she stuttered meekly with embarrassment, "Um. . .Uh. . .oh dear, I'll be paying for that."

"Add it to our tab" Altaїr instructed the check-in man, the owner of the establishment, as the elderly man glared at Vivian for ruining the decoration of the inn. She tried to find a place for the fallen item in the nearest corner by the door as she feigned a nonchalant appearance but was truly mortified beyond belief. It really wasn't hard for the assassin to feel bad for her as she tried to make herself scarce, sitting down bashfully in the nearest chair away from patrons, and he stated firmly, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't appear hostile towards my wife, she was robbed on her way to meet me and is quite shaken. She means no harm and we'll be paying for the damages since we're searching for a homestead ourselves so we know how to respect a home. Apart from that, I'd like a quiet room for us and my brother will take your smallest room-"

"What?" the dai exclaimed indignantly, his acting skills needed no help this time as he was struck by honest surprise. What, did Altaїr want to stuff him into a box for failing to sway Vivian into forgiving him? True, he didn't need much space to find a comfortable spot to sleep in but he would've preferred a decent room that didn't have the potential to asphyxiate him.

"Mother said to take care of you but she didn't say treat you to a life of luxury" he chided sternly like the 'older brother' persona that he was but shot him a small grin to play along. Malik's brow rose in acknowledgement while his lips frowned to continue the farce since they needed a place to spend the night. They were within the outskirts of Giza and traveling to the heart of the city would take an hour at most but the pyramids would be unreachable due to the long distance so rest was inevitable. Altaїr wagged a reprimanding finger towards the frowning Malik and enforced firmly like a disappointed parent, "You spent our savings so you will earn your keep in hard honest work."

Altaїr's amateur acting paid off handsomely for the first time in his life, adding a small boost in his confidence with the skill, and Malik really did get a tiny room (he was pretty sure it had been a cleaning closet once). It made no difference since he only needed a bed to sleep while their plans would mainly take place in Altaїr's room. However, Malik held doubts on his friend's idea for reconciliation and didn't hesitate to voice it because having the two furious at each other for the rest of the journey would not bode well for him. In fact, he might deem himself clinically insane for daring to continue the trip with them- or stuff his ears with cotton to drone them out. He'd asked Altaїr whether it was a good idea to share a room with a woman who despised him at the moment but Altaїr was absolutely certain he'd turn everything around. . .or ruin it beyond repair. Either way, he was not quitting until he achieved _his_ desirable outcome.

"Right now, she's a mad badger that's been starved and cornered- I plan to change that" Altaïr assured confidently as he fixed enough food for the night on a table facing their only window towards the rear of the room. He was already hungry enough to eat some of the dried meat but restrained himself until the Vivian problem was resolved and knowing her, he'd be starving after endless quarreling. The robed assassin covered the food with linen cloths to keep it sanitary, ready for quick availability if his enraged badger turned ravenous and ordered carefully, "No matter what you hear- even if she might be killing me- you must _not_ allow the door to be opened."

With the plan underway and fully explained, he ordered Malik to lock the door from the outside to prevent a hasty escape from the woman and the dai hesitantly complied- he _really_ hoped they wouldn't be kicked out for disturbing the peace. Hopefully, Vivian wouldn't be too enraged with him in her present condition but Malik truly believed they needed a breakthrough into friendship because tension would only hinder their journey. He didn't know who to fear for, the innocent but easily enraged Vivian or the stoic but deadly grand master. Either way, he listened to his friend's order and quietly closed to wooden door to seal it from the outside before heading downstairs to rest in his tiny room (and enjoy a delicious cheese platter). From inside the shared room, Altaïr set his weapons aside under the bed for safekeeping because a mad Vivian could not be trusted with sharp weapons in the open. Grabbing an orange-red apple from the wooden platter set out on the table, he bit into the sweet crispy fruit to replenish his energy. He would need it in the upcoming battle to pry open Vivian's defensive shell and break through.

Vivian had changed into her loose assassin pants, courtesy of her unexpected entrance in the realm, and a brown linen tunic that was rather large for her petite frame but beggars couldn't be choosers in ancient times. She was exhausted from the long journey and planned to lie in bed curled up like an old hibernating bear, yawning into her right hand as she exited a small nook in the wall that she dubbed the 'changing spot'. Being the only woman did give her a shred of self-consciousness when having to find a decent place to change, especially with the strict social norms of the era. Noticing Altaïr fiddling in the far end of the room, she directed the cold shoulder towards him and headed for the door to see where Malik disappeared to. Usually, he was nearby with a book in hand but the place was void of his presence which poked her mind with an immediate warning since Malik+ Vivian= A normal Altaïr. Without it, Vivian+ Altaïr= catastrophe. When her hand tried to open the wooden latch, it didn't budge under her grasp and she used her other hand to desperately pry it open but received squat. She was ready to throw her weight against it to budge the door when Altaïr's voice informed calmly, "I wouldn't try that. The door has been intentionally locked-"

"Templars?" she asked worriedly as her posture shifted defensively and backed away from the door suspiciously in case anyone burst in without notice. He shook his head to the woman's odd crab dance around the doorway, her hands already resembling the crustacean as he wondered just _how_ that was supposed to be threatening. Apparently, there were many things about her that baffled the logical mind of Altaïr.

"No, I locked it myself because you and I," he explained smoothly as he grabbed a wooden chair to set it at the end of the bed and sat down neatly in it to finish plainly, "are going to have a talk."

Instantly, she was reminded of the first fear inducing interrogation back at Masyaf and stepped back with caution as she objected shrewdly, "No! If I haven't made it clear by now, I don't have anything to say to you on a personal level. You want answers to questions on your quest, fine-"

"We need to coexist-" he pointed out firmly to conquer the fear dwelling within her and the apparent abhorrence towards him because he didn't mean to come off as callous. Vivian, however, wasn't having any part of it and backed up against the wooden door in the hopes that it could magically become unlocked. She expected him to jump out of his chair and chase her down for being defiant but he did nothing, merely crossed one leg over the other as he watched her like a hawk. It was. . .unnerving.

"We tolerate each other, that is enough" she stated firmly to end the conversation and returned to jiggling the wooden latch despite she'd no idea on opening archaic locks. Altaïr simply leaned over to pull his pack from under the bed, opening it to grab his handy rope, and quietly tied it to the nearest bedpost for security before bolting out of his chair towards her. His hands made quick work of tying the rope around her waist and although she struggled like a mad cat against him, he knotted it behind her back to prevent her from leaving. If there was one thing he was good at, it was making a superior knot that would hold anyone in place. Her patience boiled over to the shoddy treatment and she punched him on the left shoulder, not caring that he could end her existence with a flick of the wrist and exclaimed shrilly, "How dare you? I'm not cattle, you brute! I should scream my head off and have you arrested-"

"I'd rather you use an indoor voice to hide our presence and insult me with whatever pleases your fancy" he interrupted evenly without a raise in tone and her beige cheeks puffed to being bossed around, even if it was for her benefit (her mind scoffed at that). She almost resembled a ruffled feathered hen as her posture stiffened considerably and her oversized clothes added to the effect but he said nothing of it, stating directly with ease, "You and I must place our hostility behind us and yes, I know I am in the wrong this time. So, will we talk civilly like adults or will I have to keep you tied up like a disobedient barn animal?"

"You do know this isn't helping your cause" Vivian drawled sarcastically since being called an animal was degrading to _any_ human being and he untied the rope from the bedpost in a show of good faith. She was more than happy to wriggle free of it before he had a sudden change of heart and tied her down like a calf. What he didn't expect was for her to use the rope as an extension to whip his legs and he ordered her to stop immediately with a stern voice as she grinned deviously in retaliation. This was not what a rope was for! Reluctantly, she obeyed since seeing him imitate a dancing monkey wasn't as amusing as she'd originally imagined and allowed it to fall onto the floor. Altaïr kicked the rope under the bed to make sure it didn't reappear in her hands again as she crossed her arms defensively to point out with bewilderment, "You chastise me for talking since I arrived and now you want me to talk? You're a very contradicting man."

"Yes, I've been doing that a lot recently" he shot back grimly to his illogical choices as of late (namely, keeping her) but lightened his tone since he was there to rectify his mistake and seek peace. She was going to be a permanent member of his time until he returned to Masyaf and having tense conflict would split them apart as a cohesive unit, allowing their enemies to use that as an advantage. He sat back down in the chair to cross his arms, keeping her within his sight as he spoke calmly to instill a sense of safety, "I'm here to amend my behavior after what happened out on the road. You experienced something traumatic and the last thing you needed was a reprimand about it. I am having trouble grasping the fact that you are truly from another realm altogether-"

"You don't think _I'm_ scared of that myself?" she interjected stiffly but her voice weakened, her hands wringing over the hem of her tunic as she sighed desolately, "I'm in a world so very different than my own where I am truly alone. The fact that my realm could be a part of yours is daunting as it threatens my own beliefs, not to mention the logic of science itself," her arched eyebrows furrowed as she met his gaze to continue, "I don't know why I'm here but if I was led to you, then there is no question in my mind that I am another pawn in the first civilization's plans to get you moving. That or they seriously screwed up beaming in the right person."

Her words rang in Malik's previous warning and he tried to subtly appeal to her personality by attempting a small joke, "And why aren't you the right choice? Historians are in very high demand right now."

"I'd think just about anyone from the distant future could qualify, maybe they picked me because. . ." Vivian muttered under her breath as she'd mulled over the question since leaving Masyaf but couldn't reach a decent answer. She couldn't fight or held anything special within her grasp to lend an advantage to the man; plus, they didn't get along very well and most allies were trusted friends. Brushing her fingers over her unkempt hair, she quickly rambled out a quick hypothesis, "Iadmireyou and I play your game _way_ too much for my own good."

Altaïr barely caught a hint of that in her high pitched voice and she patted herself on the back for the good job she'd done to confuse his mind with the inaudible words. Unfortunately, his ears had been specially trained to hear and decipher the tiniest of sounds from a long distance which caused her face to fall when he drawled slyly with a hint of arrogance, "You admire me?"

She avoided his gaze instantly to fight down the rose blush attempting to cover the apple of her cheeks, taking a sudden interest with the floor, and answered straightforwardly with the truth, "Not anymore. I rather liked it when you weren't biting my head off and we were from two completely different realms with no awareness either of us truly existed. Digital Altaïr was awesome and stoic, you're. . .coarse and distant."

He wanted to point out that _he_ was the real person, not this doppelganger that she'd met during her strange futuristic games, as it unnerved him to know people knew of his real life experiences. He was a private person with what he'd encountered throughout his twenty-six years of life, feeling it as an unwarranted invasion of his privacy. However, Vivian wasn't the mastermind of producing his life as a game for the general public but he _was_ there to mend the gap to mutual civility and grumbled softly, "You've said as much on more than one occasion."

"You haven't been entirely civil despite the many times I've faced death" she stated flatly in reminder to his brusque attitude before the village fight, remembering the hidden blade glinting in the sunlight as he'd chased her manically through the forest. Really, how was that supposed to prepare you to fight a Templar? He grit his teeth for being put in the spot about that particular moment since he'd been rather irritated with her lack of skills and having to check out a lead that might not have been true. Now that he looked back on that, the woman had simply wanted to learn how to preserve a few minutes of her life and had managed it during the fight.

"I face death on a daily basis, sometimes _multiple_ times in a day, and I don't utter a complaint" he preened with a frown but reluctantly remembered that she was a civilian in an entirely different land- and a century ahead from her journal entries. His original belief that she was lying about everything had flown out the window with each entry that he'd read without her knowledge and had grudgingly come to accept it. The petite woman appeared ready to pounce onto his six foot form like the mad little badger she was, her feet digging into the floor as she eyed him dangerously, and he avoided another scuffle by stating clearly, "My actions were uncalled for, especially admitting the journal reading-"

"Especially?" she exclaimed indignantly to his chosen words about his breach of privacy and he tried to evade another explosion by attempting his first charismatic smile. He'd never tried to use his physical appearance (was he even an attractive man, for that matter?) to charm his way out of a problem, rather using words or physical strength to sway minds. Unfortunately, his suave smile came off as a saving face expression laced with eating something rancid that caused her to grimace at his catastrophic failure. Well, now she knew why Ubisoft left the charming skills to Ezio rather Altaïr's awful facial maneuvers and shook her head to state flatly, "I pity your facial muscles."

"And I pity you. . .in a _good_ way" he replied with a gentle voice that grinded her nerves as he tried to play the good guy with her for the first time. Of course, being pitied like a poor mangy dog on the street didn't sit well with Vivian and she didn't hesitate to retaliate to his comment. She ripped off one of her shoes to fling it at his head but he dodged it efficiently with his flexibility, his face shifting into a firm glare as he reprimanded sharply, "Vivian!"

"You abandoned me when I needed you the most, chastising a person during a crisis helps nobody" she snapped tightly to his choice of words back in the forest and flung the other shoe to plant her bare feet on the cold wooden floor, the soles of her feet tingling to the temperature change. If she hadn't been under such paralyzing fear, she would've smacked him hard until he developed a gentler personality. It was a good thing he hadn't decided to be a doctor for the assassins because his bedside manner would've been horrible, leading her to jab her verbal sword at his acclaimed honor, "After all of your promises and codex scribbles about saving the world, you keep treating me like scum at the bottom of your boot. I never saw you that way-"

"You're always insulting me on the road!" he shot back knowingly as he remembered the nicknames she'd spouted throughout their travels and the awful rhymes. Oh, the rhymes. His order would've never poked fun in his direction but Vivian had entitled herself to use it freely, creating ridiculous tunes or names about him that really weren't true (or so he thought). Why would he not feel offended by her constant chiding?

She clenched her fists to his misguided conceptions because she'd made a catchy song just about near everything, even herself, and growled between clenched teeth, "It's a coping mechanism because you constantly degrade me in front of Malik and I will not bow to your verbal abuse. You were supposed to be this honorable man that had changed drastically for the better-"

"I have!" he insisted curtly since he wouldn't have attained the revered rank of grand master by being stubbornly cruel but his current tone of voice proved otherwise. Whether he liked it or not, he was forced to look at his behavior towards her from the start and it was a little shameful that he was arguing with a civilian woman until his voice ran mute when his enemies failed to rile him with such anger. She was an innocent soul, one that he kept stabbing with harsh words half the time to keep her silent like a mouse. It was a demeaning oppressive move on his part since he'd brought her along to help him figure out the answers to the pieces of Eden, which automatically meant she had the freedom to speak her voice. After all, wasn't that what he was fighting for? To give her the endless freedom to speak her mind? Even if the voice sang with the tune of a hundred rusty swords clashing upon gritty limestone with the tone of dying coyotes combined?

"A man of honor wouldn't breach someone's privacy, you should've asked me straightforwardly like a man" she pointed out matter-of-factly and wrung the hem of her tunic between shaking fingers as she itched to beat him over the head. How could a man like he simply steal someone's belongings without a care and jab it back in their faces tauntingly? That wasn't the picture of the assassin she'd imagined since enveloping herself in the AC franchise and she stated bitterly, "I have treated you kindly and never tried to kill you, unlike a certain ex-Templar, yet my trust is apparently nonexistent-"

He was quick to wipe that off the board since the woman had nothing to do with their current predicament and retorted sharply, "Maria has nothing to do with this."

"Then why am I different? Is it because of my predicament?" she demanded coldly as her friendly and calm demeanor took the back shelf to the ferocious side, adamant to know the inner workings of his mind. She charged up to the assassin without fear, prodding his chest with her index finger to enforce tightly between thinned lips, "I'm as normal as any other person in this world. I think, I feel, I bleed, or does my year of birth eliminate me as a real person altogether?"

Twirling her fingers before his face in emphasis, her green eyes locked onto his brown orbs and she questioned pleadingly, "Am I not as human as you are?"

"You defy the laws of logic and science!" he blurted with blunt honesty to her irrational existence in his time because it was the major point of his mistrust. His lifelong beliefs and logic had been twisted ever since he began his mission for redemption, leading him into a world that was nothing like he'd expected. Yes, his eyes had been opened to what he was fighting against and for but it took strong willpower not to be driven mad by what he kept uncovering. His order, much less the public, would never believe what he'd witnessed- especially when it came to the living mad badger giving him the evil eye right now- and could only trust in Malik to let him know that he wasn't losing touch with reality. It was actually quite exhausting sometimes to wake with such responsibilities and knowledge on his shoulders but he carried on with the burden. After all, who'd have expected an ancient people to create powerful artifacts that could manipulate the human mind?

She accepted his opinion since she couldn't magically blast her image into his mind to make him fall on his knees with everlasting love for her like a Mary Sue, cursing her average personality for not being able to instill that she was completely normal. It would've been much easier to swallow if he'd been zapped into _her_ realm where she could've at least kept him on a leash and forced him to watch historical documentaries and play his own video game. Oh, and keep the technological and medical advances of her time (how she yearned to search the web). Of course, life decided to be fickle and stuck her in his realm instead. Her voice lowered to deathly silence as she locked her gaze with him to show she meant business and whispered in demand, "What is the belief of your creed?"

His honey toned eyes narrowed into slits as she struck the target with a viable reason he could accept and he spit out with regret, "Nothing is true, everything is permitted."

"Then why are you defying it? Get your head out of your ass and listen to what I'm telling you" she stated coldly with a furrowed brow, daring him to defy his own code, which elicited a growl deep within his throat to her bold tone. He'd encountered her sassy tone on a daily basis but it was one he could easily dismiss but this new attitude distinctly showed she wasn't kidding with her little flame of anger. She stood her ground admirably as he stared her down with his firmest of glares (or 'glower power' as she called it) and handed him a no-nonsense ultimatum, "Accept the fact that I am here to stay. If you and I cannot coexist, then. . .I will travel to Spain or return to Masyaf for my own answers and leave you be."

Was she out of her tiny mind? Did she really expect to survive the harsh times he lived in? She couldn't fight her way out of a cloth sack if he wasn't there to open it for her! Did she know how ridiculous her plan sounded? He had to find a way to make it perfectly crystal clear that she wasn't going anywhere and taking the blunt route, he stated coldly, "You will only find your own demise."

"Oh, and it's a better choice to stick with you?" she retorted curtly because sailing on a boat to either places sounded far better than hearing his sass day and night. He rejected all of her attempts to poke gentle fun at each other, deciding to become a figurative cobra with his humor but she wasn't the type to attack personally. She'd expected to find a way to click with him since day one but it seemed that he was kicking her out with all of her humorous gags alongside her. She broke her gaze away from his as she sidestepped to walk towards the open window to breathe in fresh air and murmured faintly, "I've had my say."

He let her be for an hour until she tried to open the door latch in vain, crawling to hide between the bed and the night table when he caught her, and received a kick in the shin when he tried to pull her out by the leg. There was nothing he could do but call a temporary ceasefire and sit back in his chair as he mended his broken pride, watching the cornered badger as she huddled against the wall with calculating eyes. The next hour brought her to drink water from the ceramic jug at the food table as he watched her like wildlife on a savanna, growling in similarity to a cheetah when she chucked her shoe at him for doing so, and proceeded to chase her around the room until exhausted. The tireless eagle and the obstinate badger were now in a battle of wills in the center of the room. She laid helplessly on the floor on her stomach, panting like a lame dog past its prime as he held her right foot prisoner in his grip and told her sternly with conviction, "You _will_ be traveling with us-"

"Not with a man who betrays my privacy!" she shouted indignantly as she kicked her legs out in the hopes of landing a strike on his face. Her legs dangled in the air as he held her like a rag doll, keeping a firm grip on her thrashing legs to immobilize her from any strikes. The injured foot from yesterday stung in his grip but she said nothing of it, refusing to show weakness before him. Her teeth grit in fury as he gained the upper hand with his strength by lifting her off the ground, her loose hair cascading over her face as she hissed crossly, "Unhand me, foul devil!"

He released her at once with reluctance but this earned him a ten minute silent treatment when her legs fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. The woman was very hard to persuade as the grueling minutes turned into tedious hours and he'd yet to reach a gap of civility. She would be his greatest adversary yet- in the field of nonviolence- and he glared at her fallen form as she massaged her bruised elbows, ordering with deathly calm that betrayed his internal irritancy, "We are going to eat a light snack and resume this conversation afterwards."

The badger merely hissed in defiance and soothed her bruises.

* * *

_Why is she not obeying me?_, Altaïr declared madly as the hours of evening were soon to arrive as the sky had turned a lilac-orange to bring in a gorgeous sunset over the city but Vivian had yet to break. He blamed it on her necessity to relieve herself and realizing he was still within the room despite the small adjacent room that served as a temporary bathroom with its chamber pot (since the outhouse was inaccessible). She'd been absolutely livid for it, screaming at him through the cloth curtain in an attempt to simmer her embarrassment and mute any bodily fluid sounds striking the metal chamber pot. Nothing instilled trust like peeing next to somebody. . .oh, how she wanted to hurl herself out of the window for the mortification. It had taken her a few minutes to muster the courage to exit the area with her head held high but when he joked that her bladder must've been the size of a camel's- she crushed his left foot under hers on the way.

Now, she sat cross-legged on the floor and more than ready to incapacitate him with a kick to the legs as she eyed him vigilantly. Altaïr had enraged the badger to her full capacity as he stared her down from his seat in the chair, trying to show he wasn't going to yell at her but his imposing figure didn't help to transfer the image into her mind. Breaking eye contact, she slumped against the wall to the standoff and he heard her mutter faintly, "You just don't get it, you hardheaded doofus."

He didn't know what that last word meant but was certain it wasn't a kind compliment. When would he ever hear kind praise from her? Her worried rants after jumping from that burning building didn't count. . .or did they? She had appeared distraught during the fire, clinging to him like a child to their lost parent before checking him like a mother hen for injuries. Altaïr's mind was more boggled than when it began and he pressed his fingers against his temples, massaging the skin in circles as he sighed exhaustingly, "Then help me understand because for the last hours, I've reached nowhere with you. If anything, I feel as if I've gone _backwards_ in this conversation."

"Fine, sit down and close your eyes" she ordered curtly with a firm stare and he listened grudgingly, sitting on the hardwood floor as he gauged her for any sudden movements. She sighed in exasperation to his cautious vigilance because she held no threat (her wrist could be snapped under his strength) and motioned to his narrowed eyes with her index finger, pointing out sarcastically, "That right there. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to attack a lethal assassin? What could I possibly do? A simple request puts you on maximum alert for no reason whatsoever. Close your eyes and trust me, just this once."

He wrinkled his nose to her remark before shutting his eyes closed to satisfy her nagging, keeping his other senses alert for any movements from the woman in case she wanted to break a bowl over his head. She might lack physical strength but that didn't mean she wouldn't utilize it through inanimate objects. Vivian shook her head to his intense reluctance to participate and could only see sharing her recent experiences with him to clue him into some insight as to who she was. Instead of being attacked as he initially suspected, she spoke slowly to draw him into her perspective of the world, "Imagine yourself in bustling city near the coast where buildings can touch the sky, your home a tiny dot in comparison as it resembles a small bureau. Your family consists of a father, a master of dispensing medicine for use by doctors, and the sole provider for a family of four. You are the oldest and hold yourself accountable for your two sisters, balancing the role of sister and mother for them when you are not studying at school."

It was obvious to him that he was walking daily steps in her real life but couldn't create a clear picture about the future, especially such a distant one. There was such a large disparity between them as to what daily life brought and their responsibilities but he would try his best to imagine this strange world of hers. He wanted the truth about her and she would give him its entirety, no matter how dull, trying to drill it into his mind as she continued, "One day, you return home after visiting a store that sells literature of all kinds and games for leisure because you're quite addicted to them. Reading or enjoying a life away from your own can be quite relaxing, especially during an exhausting day of lectures. You decide to play a game in your bedroom, one that features an impatient stab crazy assassin with _serious_ anger management issues-"

"Vivian!"

"All right, so you're playing a game that resembles moving paintings and your machine malfunctions which brings a little impatience from you" she rambled on hastily to continue the events of that fateful day and he snorted since the end sounded very picturesque for the spitfire of a woman. Vivian contained the flicker of annoyance that begged to slap him upside his hooded head but let it slide since he didn't insult her and spoke evenly, "You try to fix it but your feet trip on several objects which makes you fall flat on your face like an idiot and hit your head pretty hard on the end of a table. This is the main reason as to why you later believe the new realm is a figment of your imagination. Now, picture waking abruptly in a world surreal from your own that is an exact replica from a history book of ancient times rather than your small bedroom filled with your familiar belongings and the voices of your family. You are alone with nobody you recognize and the only person there is the heroic assassin from the game that wants to save the world. . .except he hates you with a demonic vengeance of the likes which you have never seen before."

Her voice took on a sarcastically bitter edge as she went on to dig into his brusque attitude, "You could understand if it was because of that bite on the rooftop or pulling off his boot during the first days but after you realize he's as real as the world around you, you decide to help him while trying to find a way home. You put your entire trust in someone you don't know because all you have is his word and he's always kept it throughout the game so why should the real man be any different? You believe his honor will lessen his venomous tongue but he seems to thrive on it when it's aimed solely on you, striking you more than five times a day. You even try to help him in the heat of battle and he calls you an old turtle the next day! Let's not forget that he breaks your privacy, when you wouldn't dare think of it, to find your deepest vulnerabilities and chastises you like a child when you're happy to be rescued-"

She halted immediately when her emotions began to swirl out of control, bolting from the floor to head towards the table in the back. After all, she was there to make him understand their sole reason for conflict was preposterous since she couldn't make a dent in him, she was a tiny fly! Food was a wonderful comfort at that moment to dissipate her frantic emotions and she nibbled on a piece of soft cheese like a content mouse while observing the outskirts of Giza, her cheeks puffing with each morsel. The city carried the same architecture as Cairo, reminding her of her old leisure reading during the late afternoon and she scoffed distastefully towards that Barnes & Noble that steered her wrongfully to that comic book store. If she hadn't bought that big overgrown cutout, she wouldn't be suffering the wrath of a cranky assassin and enduring harsh sunburns on a daily basis- nor traveling around the world on foot! Altaïr had become a natural part of her life since then, a large share that she wasn't particularly fond of and sighed under her breath with regret, "So much for adventure. I should've just grabbed a make-your-own adventure book from the place but no, I just _had_ to make him my inanimate roommate. I should've just bought Optimus Prime or Solid Snake."

* * *

Vivian refused to speak after her stroll through memory lane and Altaїr kept to himself on the bed, chewing on another orange-red apple while mulling over her words. She was hopelessly lost with no route home or any inkling of it. . .he couldn't imagine being torn away unwillingly from Masyaf in the blink of an eye. It was his home where his people lived and his entire life revolved around them, he knew nothing else. The closest he'd ever come to losing them had been the day he'd returned to Masyaf to find them possessed under his mentor's manipulation. . .it hurt deeply but in the end, he'd saved them. Unfortunately, Vivian didn't have a single shred of her old life- everything had been removed to leave her stranded like a newborn puppy in an entirely different world. People of her time lived life very differently than his and although Vivian was a woman in body and mind, her experiences in life were fit for an innocent unmarried civilian of a younger age. For Altaïr, it didn't take much for him to absorb the fact that he and Malik were all she had- a solemn circumstance that drew sympathy for the first time since meeting.

The sky had darkened into the black veil of night as diamond stars twinkled and realized it was solely up to him to find a solution that would rebuild her trust. He'd never been much of a mentor before his redemption quest, rather accustomed to issuing orders only, but Vivian was a special case- one that Templars could never catch wind of. Being saddled with a spitfire little creature like her had been the last of his expectations for the uncertain future, cursing whatever species had forged the items, since Vivian had absolutely no control over it. If anything, both of them were in agreement that the pieces brought nothing but misery to anyone in their vicinity. His boots thudded on the floor as he stood up from the bed to approach her, green eyes narrowing as she stepped back from his advance towards the table and her fingers grasped the half-empty clay pitcher of water. He halted immediately to show he wasn't about to hurl her across the room and raised his hands in a peaceful approach, lowering his hood slowly to show his own form of trust as he spoke softly, "If I apologize for everything and start anew with harmless sarcasm, will that suit you?"

"It may" she drawled slowly with skepticism since most of his jokes went hand in hand with insults. Her hand loosened its hold on the handle of the pitcher, lowering back down her right side as she tilted her head to the side in interest to his offer.

"You insult me half the time- no, we are _not_ doing another runaround" he corrected himself with a small hiss to their tendencies to dance the endless tune of sarcasm until one achieved dominance, wagging a warning finger to her ambiguous tone. He expected her to lash out or hurl another object but Vivian said nothing, her left eyebrow simply lifting to his refusal to fall into another landmine field with her. Instead, he ended their endless feuding cycles like one would to a roach infestation and stated clearly as he placed his peaceful offer on the table, "You are a young soul in this era, ignorant to our ways and the dangers lurking in the dark. I will protect and chastise you for mistakes but it is only to open your eyes to avoid a repetition and keep you safe. Will you cease your harsh words as well?"

"Yes, although most are about your unsavory traits" she justified to certain times when she poked the dangerous eagle to lighten his mood because rising blood pressure wouldn't help him in the long run of his life. Her sense of humor didn't roll off his back very well and if tweaking it or seeking peace would nullify his glare power exponentially, she'd take what she could get. She couldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? She didn't aim to rip into his image (if anything, AC fans boosted it), especially on purpose, and deliberated further on her past actions with a sheepish voice, "I don't have it in me to argue or criticize you, I've been taught better than that."

Altaїr gazed at her with a dry stare because she'd certainly pounced on him like a mad monkey during their first days and shared his opinion on her behavior, "Having them thrown into my face doesn't help either but I suppose it is your own subtle way of alerting me. I'd rather tell you outright to clear the air rather than keep it locked away but it seems our personalities differ when facing conflict."

"You can keep your lectures but never mention my mother or I will rearrange your face, civilian or not" she stated quietly to drill that notion into his head because her family was strictly off limits now after his stunt and he nodded stiffly. He agreed that secretly prying into a civilian's belongings wasn't smart, especially when innocent, and banned himself from doing so- besides, who knew what lurked in those fat packs of hers. Crossing her arms, she took her position on the bargaining table as she added in her small list of demands as she shielded her vulnerabilities with a stony glare, "The same goes for my family. If I am stranded in this realm, the last thing I need are reminders or so help me, I will leave your group in the blink of a second."

"Agreed" he stated simply since the petite woman wasn't afraid to fight for her core values and wondered whether to have her bargain for items with vendors. She appeared satisfied to his acceptance, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she shifted her weight onto the right leg to show placation. He leaned back against the table as a show of good faith, gazing over his shoulder towards the night sky as he admitted slowly with a low voice, "I am very finicky about trust after what occurred at Masyaf. Al Mualim was a like a second father to me after being raised by his hand alone and when I learned he had betrayed not only me, but our entire Order. . .my brothers and sisters. . .it felt as if he'd shoved a poisoned dagger into my back."

"To be exact, he did stab you in the stomach" she pointed out quietly with a small smile and he shot her a deadpan expression for her tendency to correct his grammar. Yes, he remembered _that_ moment quite well- not everyone can forget receiving a dagger to the torso. Her expression turned meek for being pinned under his hawk-like glare after digging up the past, quickly occupying herself by rubbing an old oil stain on her left sleeve as she mumbled out sheepishly, "Sorry, accuracy quirk of mine."

A moment later, her gaze returned to his and she asked slowly with a small grin hitching at her lips, "Altaїr, do you really think I'd do such a thing? I can't even hold a weapon correctly, I use a _walking_ stick and pocket sand to defend myself! You could take a chair to the back and keep walking like nothing happened while I would be a broken heap of human bones on the floor."

The slightest hint of a smile appeared on the right corner of his lips and he commented simply, "Depends on what kind of a chair."

It was a small icebreaker within their recent heated confrontations and Vivian tried to keep a smile from surfacing on her lips to the first joke he'd uttered since meeting. Really, who could ever imagine the stone obelisk known as Altaїr to utter a _joke_? It would be like seeing a spotted cow wearing a yellow tutu jump over the moon! Her throat stifled a giggle threatening to surface, coughing into her hand to maintain courtesy to his light jest since humor was a new arena for him to explore. If only she'd been given a book of mad libs for this one way trip, it would've given his brain a few ideas to try out. She took two steps forward, ignoring her self-preservation as it always screamed to bolt whenever neared him, and decided to take her own leap of faith by stating amicably, "I'm Vivian Shore, a lost sheep in your realm who needs to return home to my loved ones," her brows furrowed slightly as she spoke softly, "Can you help me?"

"I am Altaїr Ibn'La-Ahad and I will shepherd you if you wish it but I can be stern" he reintroduced himself carefully since he wasn't the chattiest man around and she nodded quietly. It wasn't how he'd expected to end their conflict (he'd expected physical lashings) but it was a half-decent start where they wouldn't attack each other on a personal level. There was room to branch their acquaintance and knowing Vivian's loneliness in a different realm, he would tend to the dirt to blossom that trust. It wouldn't be easy, given their personalities, but he began on the right track by asking gently, "Did you check your injuries, Vivian?"

She rubbed the sides of her arms since admitting weakness wasn't a regular occurrence unless it was critical and lifted her foot off the floor as dull pain shot into her tibia. Her ankle had been swollen during the morning as the abused muscles were beginning to heal and she'd tried to keep most of her weight off it during travel but that didn't happen. Also, trying to kick him off when he'd chased and grasped her by the leg didn't help her poor limb either. Rotating her left foot gently to test its mobility, she answered his inquiry with a small frown on her lips, "My ankle hurts a bit despite I wrapped it in cloth to prevent a sprain while walking. Being on the road increases the chances exponentially, given our dangerous excursions."

"Keep your weight off it for tonight. . .are you hungry?" he suggested softly to prevent inflammation after their long walk and she plopped down on the bed to relax, massaging the covered ankle to lessen any lingering swelling. All she could use as supportive bandages were pieces of cloth torn out of rags but it kept her foot stable throughout walking. He watched her for a few seconds, a flicker of anger biting him at remembering the brutish man stepping onto that fragile joint without consideration for her pain. His thoughts were washed aside when she quickly uttered the word 'cheese' and found herself taken aback when he prepared a plate of food for her at the table since he'd never done such a thing. If anything, she was the one cooking and serving alongside Malik while he grumbled about her shabby cooking skills. It wasn't her fault modern conveniences were missing in his time.

Her mouth watered to seeing a variety of cheeses, soft fresh bread, a boiled brown egg, and chicken meat on the wooden plate he handed to her as he'd prepared one for himself as well. She supplied a grateful 'thank you' for the sudden generosity, trying to restrain her immense hunger by taking small polite bites from each item as she glanced at him covertly through her dark lashes. The last thing she wanted in this strange neutral ground was for him to see her as a messy overzealous eater but oh, how she loved cheese! Regardless of the era change, it was damn good and she nibbled on it like a content mouse relishing its last meal. He sat down on the opposite end of the bed to maintain propriety, using the chair as a makeshift table for his plate as he filled his hungry stomach with food for the first time since morning. Unlike Vivian who fought against pigging out over her plate, the assassin ate with extreme patience and the taste of the roasted chicken brought a curious question to mind, "Is. . .How is the food in your time?"

"Not as natural as this" she chuckled softly as she bit into organic chicken that held no added hormones or unnatural substances, pleasing her taste buds. All worries about catching illnesses from improperly cooked food or unfiltered water had been thrown into a backburner since life could end at any second during the troubled times, especially with the company she kept. Remembering the taste of her favorite delivered fast food, she grinned enthusiastically to explaining the concept and introduced him to modern food, "There's this food called pizza, it's made of baked dough that's shaped into a circle and slathered with herby tomato sauce as toppings of both vegetables and meat can be piled on top of it. It's so delicious and you can create many varieties, whether you buy them at stores, an eatery, or make them yourself."

She paused for a second to acknowledge whether he understood her explanation, using the pause to bite into her slippery boiled egg as she watched him tap his bread idly over the plate. His brow furrowed slightly as he gazed at his plate of food, concentrating on something Vivian couldn't interpret and finally, he requested slowly, "Tell me more of this 'pizza'."

* * *

"I'm pretty tired now" Vivian murmured with exhaustion as she rubbed her dry eyes, yawning into her hands from the long day as she was eager to fall into dreamland. Maybe there, she could hop alongside the fluffy sheep and take a ride on one towards the moon; creativity had no limits in the subconscious mind. Oddly enough, no dreams about the weapon wielding assassin had popped in since they'd met and she blamed her bleak reality on it. It was so much easier to blissfully dream of the stoic assassin and squeezing him like the rabid fangirl she'd been in her own time but it wasn't meant to be. Collapsing onto the bed, she moaned in sweet relief to the plush comfort the mattress delivered to her tired back as her vertebrae turned to jelly. This was a thousand times better than sleeping on the bare ground where tiny rocks jabbed into her back when she wasn't careful enough to sweep them away. A peaceful sleep was all she could ask after the current events in her life, her fingers tangling into the brown blankets to give them an appreciative greeting and she whimpered sluggishly, "So very tired."

Altaїr wholeheartedly agreed since his own body was drained of half its energy, especially after tugging the canoe on his own, and was having trouble keeping his eyes open. The fact that they were entering lands that weren't under heavy Templar control and constant fighting against Saladin's forces allowed him to lower his guard (only a for a millisecond) with a peace of mind he hadn't felt in many years since his childhood. Each of his days were spent training, leading to missions once he achieved his assassin rank and his life became deeply imbedded to serving the principles of his order. New changes had sprung into his life, the eccentric Vivian among them, and he had to adapt to make room for them or risk falling back into old habits. One thing he abhorred was the lack of surveillance during the night over rooftops since it decreased his exercise exponentially to keep all of his abilities honed to the maximum. How else could he bypass enemies and keep his stealth at its best?

Vivian grabbed an extra pillow and fluffed it up to hold it next to her, cuddling into the sheets to prepare for sleep. She hadn't slept in a bed in more than a week, although it felt like ages that she'd had the option of such a luxury. Altaїr's curiosity was poked after noticing this occurrence within all the inns they traveled to since her tent was her sanctuary so he could only assume it was present there as well. Her appearance within the bed reminded him of a wrapped newborn babe, bringing to mind her true identity in his harsh world, and he took a chance by asking carefully, "I always see you holding a pillow when we stay at inns. Why is that?"

Her hands clutched the pillow closer as if he would take it away without warning, green eyes pinning him with sleepy accusation but he merely stayed in his spot. Realizing she'd fallen into another misconception, she released her hold on the pillow and answered sheepishly about her strange action, "I, uh, have a little sister of five. When she gets scared, I let her sleep next to me since our dad has to work to keep our household running. She's a sweet kid, just like my mom. She makes imaginary tea every day after school but she lets you pick out your choice."

"I never knew the luxury of sharing a sibling, Malik shared a very tight bond with his since we were raised apart from our parents" he admitted softly since that was a bond he would never experience with another, adding further emphasis to his lone wolf image. His life was devoted to his order by carving out their continuance into the future and to fight for what they stood for- emotional bonds would only drive daggers into his heart if formed. The young man had yet to learn how such attachments could strengthen one's resolve to accomplish goals but time would serve to enlighten him.

"And you will change that, love is a very strong emotion as it brings loyalty, courage, friendship- many traits that differ from the Templars" she yawned with encouragement to embrace new values as she fought the exhaustion within her body from shutting her down. There was great potential in Altaїr as he sought questions to enhance his view on life, never allowing it to bring defeat when he was wrong and she could only aid him in that understanding. Wiping a watery left eye, she added in helpfully to build his confidence towards the concept, "You should be able to watch your children grow and pass on the wisdom you've learned, watching each teaching branch out like a tree to cement the foundation of your creed. I'm not going to say it'll be easy during the first years because toddlers can be lost in the blink of an eye with their rampant curiosity."

"Change can occur slowly but a small ripple in the water causes many more to spread" he stated quietly with little reluctance towards opening his heart to building a better relationship with his order, especially his friends within it. There was no question in his mind that he wouldn't sacrifice himself to protect each member without hesitation, down to the last child, and knowing _who_ he was fighting for added a unique face to what he fought to preserve. He tilted his head to the side a moment later, a grimace forming on his lips and admitted distastefully to his companion, "Ugh, I can't believe I used a water metaphor."

She chuckled to the sound of his voice, especially the sarcastic note, as she turned to the side to curl up and mumbled sleepily, "Good night, Altaїr."

"Wait" he objected hastily before she fell asleep, her eyes snapping open to see him using nonsensical hand signals as he emphasized touching an invisible boundary around her. If this was about the sleeping arrangements, she'd stuff a thick blanket between them to show nothing was wrong. Really, who'd want to do anything scandalous in bed when she was tired out of her mind? Besides, they could barely withstand each other and any attraction was in the infinite abyss within the negative zone. She hoped this would be quick as she motioned with her right hand to move along and he stated quietly, "I still seek your forgiveness for what I did and I never offered my apology."

"Will you still brandish your polished silverware at my face?" she asked dryly to his many threats over the long weeks, remembering the polished blade that could've ended her life if he wished it. Meeting an early demise was not on her schedule or receiving cardiac damage from seeing it in front of her face so her only order of business would be to banish that weapon. Of course, she'd thank him gratefully if he used it against enemies but glinting weapons were not items a civilian like her needed to see on a daily basis- no matter how dangerous the times were.

"I have to, it asserts dominance" he mumbled disappointedly as he stared at his left hand, wiggling his fingers instinctively to bring forth his weapon. She directed a flat stare towards his blade, a sleepy smile creeping onto her lips for his odd attachment to an item that brought death to many but lent him survival. His shoulders slumped in defeat as his prized fear-inducer was banned within their interactions, his right hand touching the gauntlet to remove it for the night. Of course, that didn't mean he'd sleep without protection because hiding a knife under the pillow saved lives- period. Nonetheless, he kept his hidden blade close at hand as he obliged to her request and admitted with a slight hint of grumpiness on his crestfallen face, "All right, I'm very aware that this isn't normal but then again, neither am _I_. There is nothing to fear about me, Vivian, I will not hurt you."

"It's not about fearing you, I want mutual respect and. . ." she explained softly as she cuddled into the smooth sheets for warmth and to appeal to his good nature because stirring a little respect from him would help. Nobody wanted to be seen like a pesky bug or clinging animal so proving herself would be next in the agenda towards achieving a decent foothold in his world. Brushing back strands of loose hair behind her ears, she breathed deeply and spoke gingerly with a little hesitance, "I know trust and friendship are two different things to ask of you but. . .I've always wanted an assassin friend."

"You'd be killed for mere association" he warned gently as he raised his foot onto the wooden framework of the bed to unlace his boots, caked mud and dust gathered at the edges. His head lowered to gaze at the metal buckles of his boot and at knowing that no good could come of bringing a civilian into his life, it was better to keep her at arm's length. At least there, she'd have a fighting chance if she ever became captured and hoped to instill that idea by stating clearly with solemnity, "To immerse yourself in my world is a dangerous decision, Vivian. Not many live once they take a step into it."

She sat up with a small smile to the olive branch, knowing it was hard to separate the man from his blade and leaned over to help him undo a few of the leather buckles on his boots as he prepared for bed. It was the least she could do to return the same civility, carefully untangling the leather straps from the buckles as she angled her head to the side and gazed up at him to point out impishly, "If you haven't noticed, I'll be killed for traveling with you anyway. You're a strong man and you can help me fix my own frailties because what use will I be if I'm weak? Friendships fuel your determination and I'll just be another drop in the water pool."

She loosened two side buckles and groaned at spotting another on the back, wondering how many of these things were around his leather boots. Sighing dismally to his shoe style, she tried to find where his logic in footwear dwelled from and asked tiredly, "Dear me, Altaïr, why not use laces to tie it all up?"

"It also has laces on the upper back" he informed dryly about the extra tidbit on his boots and she uttered a meek 'oh' of disappointment to the buckle maze. This is why she wore leather loafers with straps to keep them from falling off but a maze of buckles and laces were insane. She leaned back into her old spot on the bed to allow him to finish pulling off the brown boot and her right eyebrow rose with intrigue when she spotted her handmade socks on his feet. He'd actually kept them? They had turned a light gray color with time and constant use but she smiled brightly when he caught her glance and admitted slowly with reluctance, "I must say these 'socks' do keep my feet warmer, better than what I used."

Vivian found herself smiling proudly but kept the beaming grin inside because she'd never heard a compliment without an insult attached. Oh, she felt like a baby kitten getting a gentle back rub from its new loving owner as she accepted his comment with open arms. Maybe things were truly changing for the better, allowing her defensive shell to open slightly after yesterday's fiasco and stated sincerely, "Glad to be of service. I'll be more than happy to knit a few more when this pair rips."

He pried off the left boot from his foot and placed it on the floor, leaning back against the wall behind them to relax the day's stresses away, and slipped his feet into the covers for warmth. His arms ached from carrying the heavy canoe on his own, deciding to ask Vivian for help next time to save his arms extra pain and rested his head against the wall to exhale slowly. The night was wonderfully quiet in Giza, the wooden covers of the windows closed to protect them from any intruders and Vivian returned to the groove she'd made on the bed to snuggle into the covers with a pleased smile. A small moment of peace during the night was all she could afford in this life and inquired softly, "Are you going to sleep?"

"I wanted to survey the land but I am rather exhausted" he admitted with a tired yawn, unable to stifle the sound or cover it with his hands and she smiled to the similarity of a lazy lion in the savanna. She couldn't weigh in on his life and order him to bed, despite the man sorely needed rest, and nodded agreeably in the hopes that he would. There was a sleep theory she wanted to test with the man: if more sleep equaled a less grumpy assassin. Thankfully, he wasn't going to debate sleeping arrangements or decorum because both were truly exhausted after arguing (and chasing each other) and mumbled languidly, "Go to sleep, I will watch over you while I write in my journal before I retire for the night. I promise my scribbling won't keep you up and if I do decide to leave, I will wake you."

"All right. . .good night" she yawned drowsily into her pillow and turned towards the wall to face away from the candlelight on the nightstand to bathe herself in comfortable darkness. It didn't take very long for her to fall asleep as exhaustion knocked her out, curled up in a fetal position on her side of the bed, and she entered the land of dreams. Who knew what dwelled in that hectic little mind of hers. Altaïr spared her a glimpse as he'd completed a worthy task within hours (although Vivian had been particularly feisty) and wiped the sleep from his eyes, leaning over to grab his pack to pull open the leather flaps. The mattress shifted slightly as he fished out his private journal for the order's library (not his codex) and began another detailed account of his journey by writing with a piece of unwrapped coal,

_I am now miles from the historic pyramids of Giza, a land rich in its history, and one that the Order can one day establish a bureau to monitor Templar activity. The days during this September month are humid with rare light breezes during late hours but nighttime brings a sudden drop in temperature. It is best to bring abundant blankets for the night but dress lightly during the day. For those with an itchy mind for knowledge, there is a decent library in the city open to the public. I will be traveling there tomorrow to widen the horizons of my mind and write my findings for future readers of the order._

"Bad Desmond, motorcycles. . .make you. . .splattered road kill" Vivian mumbled softly in her dream induced sleep, clutching the pillow close like a treasured item and Altaїr shook his head to her random slips of the tongue. The woman was very. . .baffling with her quirky behavior.

_Civilians can entertain a weary mind with amusement and must never be forsaken, no matter where they hail from. One has convinced me of such and although they have been a pesky thorn in my side, the core values that exist in the good of mankind are held there. _

_I will not fail them._

* * *

_Inspired by: "Love and Loss" by Two Steps from Hell_

**A/N**: Life has been hectic for me recently, personally and academically, and the fact Mass Effect 3 took up days of my time set this chapter back a few days but it's another whopper in length. We get a little downtime between the two as they blow over the incident to return to their main mission, now on friendlier terms, so we'll be seeing how Altaïr does in this new field of humor. For some reason, I picture him as the frightened Bambi on the ice scene while the happy Thumper (Vivian) assures it'll all be okay. On another topic, now that the trailer and main character info is out for Assassin's Creed 3, what do you think of Connor and the American Revolution setting?

_Foreverafter_: Yeah, I always reply to my reviewers since they might have questions that are in others' minds about the story so it's easy to knock out two birds with one stone. Altaïr always managed to redeem himself since he doesn't want to fall back into old habits, even if Vivian tests his patience.

_KrnYong_: The only time Vivian will dare to sleep next to the man is for self-preservation against hypothermia. Lol. Altaïr always has that elegant air, whether falling into rivers or jumping from burning buildings, and he'll always make things right- even if it means dragging Vivian by her leg.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: Hope you liked this chapter!

_DesertPaint_: Yes, there will be a romance blossoming between Altair and Vivian but it will take time since they're quite at odds- given her unfortunate time traveling. I actually thought of killing off Maria after the baby but I can't be that cruel when Templars need smiting.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: I would've loved to use that line against Templars but Vivian lacks any decent power to awe them- the most she could do is throw a rotten tomato and watch it splatter on them. Thanks for the support on the story, Vivian and Altair bow gratefully to their readers while Malik hands out cookies.

_chibiassassinsFTW_: I'm glad to have done so.

_Kallios the Scholar_: Sometimes I wonder if Maria tried to kill him because of his craziness, which Vivian always pokes fun at. I tried to make Vivian's character as natural as I could for today's optimistic bookworm but leave areas that have room for improvement throughout the story. I know the AC fan falling into their realm has been done before but I wanted to take it in a new direction with his life. As for the menstrual cycle, my research popped in with the answer that small towels and sea sponges (inserted to the similarity of a tampon) were used for menstrual flows while others knitted reusable cloth pads (of cotton, terrycloth, or flannel) to use. Poor Vivian doesn't have anybody to ask which is why she'll mortify both when she goes shopping in Giza next chapter.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: Thanks for loving the story, I hope this chapter kept the figurative car running after that temporary end. I've read similar stories with the same premise but I didn't want to redo his whole adventure since there are fanfictions aplenty that keep my brain satiated with that and wanted Altaïr to head elsewhere since Ezio took over afterwards. Plus, knowing how his life went on during Revelations helps to chisel out this story as I write it. Malik does deserve a hug for all he's endured with the two and Vivian will try to get him female attention at every city they travel to- starting in the next chapter- to Altaïr's dismay.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Two Assassins, A Historian, and A Templar Walk Into A Bar. . ._

When Malik realized his companions weren't below for breakfast and morning had fully bathed the city in its light, he began to worry for the duo- especially their civilian time traveler. After he finished breakfast (he was desperately hungry, damn it), he headed upstairs to open the door himself from the outside since his friend hadn't snuck out to open it. He didn't know what to expect from the two since nobody reported excessive noise and Malik hoped there weren't mutilated limbs with fresh crimson blood smeared on the walls. His assassin senses were on full alert as he stood before the bedroom door, the wooden latch opening under his fingers to reveal. . .

Vivian and Altaїr slept soundly on in their shared bed, her form hidden under the covers with only the top of her black mane peeking through while his friend slept soundly in the center of the bed face-up. He was relieved to see they didn't carry injuries, fallen unconscious, or had trashed the room, and decided to give them privacy as he retreated downstairs to occupy himself with a book.

Altaїr awoke first, being an early riser (meaning midmorning today), and found himself smothered by not only his blankets but another human body. He hadn't accidentally killed someone in his sleep, had he? Groaning in distaste for not having a bed all to himself, he wiped his eyes with his only free hand as the sun decided to shoot its bright beam on his side of the bed and lowered his head to avoid being blinded early in the morning. Altaїr lowered one brown eye to see Vivian draped diagonally, almost horizontally, over his vertical position on the bed and he had to wonder how she even slept comfortably in such a position (and didn't suffocate being face down). He wasn't going to lie, he was a notorious bed hog since he was a bachelor but she seemed to maneuver her way around that.

Yawning into the quiet room, he rubbed her back lazily to wake her crumpled form as he felt like an owner rubbing a cat that laid on him rather than the woman she was. Truly, they were strange companions and Vivian kept boggling his mind with the tiniest actions. Her feet kicked into the air in protest, picking up their blankets as she mumbled nonsensically into the mattress and he groaned aloud into the bedroom in slight annoyance. Is this what married couples went through because if so, he was glad he'd run off from Maria before he sunk deeply into what might have been. Then again, maybe it was just the crazy little badger known as Vivian (as he'd dubbed her). She kept insisting that he maintain his attention to Maria since his future generation depended upon it but Altaïr wasn't quite ready to settle down when the Templars order remained a threat. Of course, she'd sarcastically added in that he'd be holding a cane by the time that happened but he ignored her chiding.

"Get up, you're cutting off my circulation" he whined with an annoyed grunt and decided to take matters into his hands, sitting up groggily with a face full of sunshine to watch her roll into his lap like a bale of harvested hay. Well, at least she hadn't clung onto his clothes or bed sheets subconsciously. The dormant Vivian landed on her back without a change in sleep pattern as she kept dozing on peacefully and he sighed towards the ceiling in disbelief, running his fingers through his cropped hair. How much of a deep sleeper was this woman? When her left hand twitched, his brown eyes lit up expectantly as he watched her intently to wake up. . .only to see her reach up and scratch the top of her right breast.

Was he intentionally and cruelly being tortured?

He slapped her hand away from her own bosom before she decided to venture further south and expose him to something terrifying, eliciting a protesting groan from her lips. Deciding to use the same trick she used on him when he overslept, he pinched her nose to seal off her breathing and waited for her to gulp for air. It didn't take long and she coughed loudly, rising to sit up immediately to regain her full breathing but collided her head with his when he wasn't fast enough to dodge. The contact jolted her awake and she groaned painfully as she held her throbbing head, rubbing the throbbing spot while sputtering accusingly with blazing eyes, "Altaїr!"

"You wouldn't wake and I wasn't going to watch you scratch hidden places under your nightgown!" he shot back defensively before he was blamed for something he didn't do, preferring to be blamed for butting heads with her. Otherwise, he'd never live down the wrongful accusation of groping a woman, especially the little badger that was currently glaring holes through his face.


	17. Two Assassins, A Historian, and

**Two Assassins, a Historian, and a Templar Walk Into a Bar  
**

* * *

When Malik realized his companions weren't below for breakfast and morning had fully bathed the city in its golden light, he began to worry for the duo- especially the civilian time traveler. When Altaïr became enraged, he had the strength of a mad bull and would plow his way through anything to achieve his goal. After he finished breakfast (he was desperately hungry, damn it), he headed upstairs to open the door himself from the outside since his friend hadn't snuck out to open it. He didn't know what to expect from the two since nobody reported excessive noise to the owner and Malik hoped there weren't mutilated limbs with fresh crimson blood smeared all over the walls. His assassin senses were on full alert as he stood before the bedroom door with ominous worry, the wooden latch opening under his fingers to reveal. . .

Vivian and Altaїr slept soundly on in their shared bed, her petite form hidden under the covers with only the top of her black mane peeking through while his friend slept soundly in the center of the bed face-up. Well, that was oddly unexpected since Altaïr usually kept to himself when sleeping, choosing either the floor or couch. He was relieved to see they didn't carry injuries, fallen unconscious, or had trashed the room, and decided to give them privacy as he retreated downstairs to occupy himself with a book. After spending a night in a room that was fit to be his coffin, he was anxious to be in an open room to get fresh air. Next time, Altaïr would be stuffed into a tiny room with Vivian when they decided to have a spat because he was the innocent party between all that (and required a peace of mind).

Altaїr awoke first, being an early riser (meaning midmorning today), and found himself smothered by not only his blankets but another human body. He hadn't accidentally killed someone in his sleep, had he? Or knocked them unconscious? Groaning in distaste for not having a bed all to himself, he wiped his eyes with his only free hand as the sun decided to shoot its bright beam on his side of the bed and lowered his head to avoid being blinded early in the morning. Altaїr lowered one brown eye to see Vivian draped diagonally, almost horizontally, over his vertical position on the bed and he had to wonder how she even slept comfortably in such a position (and didn't suffocate being face down). He wasn't going to lie, he was a notorious bed hog since he was a bachelor but she seemed to maneuver her way around that. She almost resembled a corpse if he didn't check to make sure her chest was rising and wondered if she'd even tried to move him throughout the night to find a decent position to sleep in. On the other hand, his weight outmatched hers and her lack of upper body strength would've had her pinned like a rabbit under a dead wolf.

Yawning into the quiet room, he rubbed her back lazily to wake her crumpled form since he felt like an owner rubbing a lazy cat that laid on him rather than the woman she was. Truly, they were strange companions in this journey and Vivian kept boggling his mind with the tiniest actions. How did she not find sleeping in a bed with man daunting? Were all women of her time like this? Or had he received an anomaly? Her feet kicked into the air in protest, picking up their blankets as she mumbled nonsensically into the mattress and he groaned aloud into the bedroom with slight annoyance. Is this what married couples went through because if so, he was glad he'd run off from Maria before he sunk deeply into what might have been. Then again, maybe it was just the crazy little badger known as Vivian (as he'd dubbed her). She kept insisting that he maintain his attention to Maria since his future generation depended greatly upon it but Altaïr wasn't quite ready to settle down when the Templars order remained a threat. Of course, she'd sarcastically added in that he'd be holding a cane and dragging his coffin by the time that happened but he ignored her chiding.

"Get up, you're cutting off my circulation" he whined with an annoyed grunt and decided to take matters into his hands, sitting up groggily with a face full of sunshine to watch her roll into his lap like a bale of harvested hay. Well, at least she hadn't clung onto his clothes or bed sheets subconsciously. The dormant Vivian landed on her back without a change in sleep pattern as she kept dozing on peacefully and he sighed towards the ceiling in sheer disbelief, running his fingers through his cropped brown hair. How much of a deep sleeper was this woman? When her left hand twitched, his brown eyes lit up expectantly as he watched her intently to wake up. . .only to see her reach up and scratch the top of her right breast.

Was he intentionally and cruelly being tortured?

He slapped her hand away from her own bosom before she decided to venture further south and expose him to something terrifying, eliciting a protesting groan from her lips. Deciding to use the same trick she used on him when he overslept, he pinched her nose to seal off her breathing and waited for her to gulp for air. It didn't take long and she coughed loudly, rising to sit up immediately to regain her full breathing but collided her head with his when he wasn't fast enough to dodge. The sharp contact jolted her awake and she groaned painfully as she held her throbbing head, rubbing the throbbing spot while sputtering accusingly with blazing eyes, "Altaїr!"

"You wouldn't wake and I wasn't going to watch you scratch hidden places under your nightgown!" he shot back defensively before he was blamed for something he didn't do, preferring to be blamed for butting heads with her. Otherwise, he'd never live down the wrongful accusation of groping a woman, especially the little badger that was currently glaring holes through his face. As honorable as he was as an assassin, he was the same as a gentleman because protecting others was the main priority as an assassin (besides maintaining the peace). The palm of his hand rubbed the center of his forehead, accustomed to strikes while Vivian held her head like she'd been struck by a coconut projectile and he finished sharply, "I forgot to lean back when I pinched your nose and your head hit mine."

She waved a dismissive hand through the air, rubbing her throbbing skull with the palm of her left hand to dull the pain while the assassin sat proudly like a basking lion without acknowledging the bump. Even in the morning he made her look atrocious in appearance and prone to injuries. She wrinkled her nose when a familiar scent struck the air between them and teased mischievously, "Did the Apple give you dragon breath that could fell an army with one whiff?"

He narrowed his eyes to being insulted about his morning breath since she didn't smell like a fresh bed of flowers herself and thinned his lips as a shred of self-consciousness struck. His little sour mood to her comment faded instantly when she smiled for the first time since that day at the river, wrapping the blankets around her shoulders as she remarked impishly, "It's not a bad superpower. _I_ have it too."

Her green eyes brightened to an idea that burst into her mind and she added in enthusiastically, "Wouldn't it be clever to be given a gland at the back of your mouth to spray people you don't like with a paralyzing poison?"

Altaїr shook his head to her wild imagination, already knowing her avidness as a reader and her era helped to forge that illogical land. How many fiction and nonfiction tales of worth had erupted during her time? Had any philosophical, scientific, medicinal, or militaristic geniuses risen throughout their time gap? He tried to keep a straight face (some of the fictional tales of her time were ridiculous) when he asked with mild interest, "You had that strange dream again where people can fly and shoot lightning from their hands?"

"Well, seeing as the pieces give you some kind of supernatural power, I think I already have a champion before me" she answered amusingly since her dreams were the last frontier to experience fictional adventure now that television and gaming were out of the picture. All she could do now was imagine her own fanfiction and create interesting stories that would occupy her mind from the horrible reality she was living in. Her best dream had involved Tolkien's Fellowship after endless real life journeying that reminded her subconscious of all three books but it had soon transformed Aragorn into Altaїr and she was no longer the dexterous Legolas but a new Gollum, chain wrapped around the waist while the assassin told her not to touch the One ring. It almost ruined her love for Tolkien's creations since nobody wanted to be an altered version of Gollum but yesterday's dream had been easygoing.

A good dream was a rarity but remained thankful for each one because lacking an outlet for stress would only cause a monumental buildup. Yawning into her hands in courtesy to her partner, she patted her stomach afterwards and sighed miserably, "I'm starving. Let's hope we find one that will drop food from the sky or turn everything we touch into chocolate."

He chuckled to her crazy ponderings and rose from the bed to stretch his flexible limbs for another day of work, or investigating, in his case. The inner fangirl that lingered within Vivian brought an intrigued arched eyebrow as she gazed at his backside, cursing the invisible forces of power that didn't allow her to cling to him like she would've on her cardboard cut-out. The flexible stretching was almost hypnotic as she watched toned muscles shift under his sleeping tunic but she slapped herself mentally to gaze away before he caught her. No, he was eye candy _only_ because his personality would tear hers into tiny microscopic pieces. Also, there could be no emotional attachments of any sort because ruining the time-space continuum would doom everyone.

Running her fingers through tousled hair, her brain was stimulated with a new idea and she joked wittily, "Oh, you should do that by the window. There's this man on the other side that was doing the same yesterday," her nose wrinkled and she mumbled distastefully, "It wasn't pretty, my eyes were scarred. Go show that guy how it's done."

Ignoring her comment to get revenge on the half-naked man from across the inn, he approached the door to check whether Malik had dropped by to check in on them. Fortunately, he'd unlocked it for them and hoped he wasn't in store for a 'did you behave?' or 'protect the time traveler' lecture because he'd been rather well-behaved (in his view). Turning around to witness Vivian fiddling with the bandage over her left ankle, he informed casually, "I'm going to the outhouse."

"Take your Codex" she piped up hastily while scratching her itchy skin under the bandage (heat wasn't helping it) and he stared at her awkwardly for the suggestion. What was outhouse etiquette during her time? Truly, she baffled him with her lack of reservation. Vivian forgot toilet jokes were nonexistent there as well by the bewildered expression on his face, tickled pink by the hoodless Altaïr as he finally used his facial muscles for something other than scowling. She chuckled softly as his brow furrowed slightly to show his mind was working on the problem and she explained with a bright smile, "People do their best thinking while on the toilet. For all we know, that's how inventions were formed."

"I think I'll skip that, Vivian" he disagreed with a disturbed face at having to do _that_ and write at the same time. The woman really was strange sometimes with her ideas and hoped he wouldn't come back to find her competing in a stretching contest by the window. The norms of his time were very different and actions like that could have the poor woman exiled with stones being hurled in her direction. Oddly enough, he could do the same and escape unscathed. He decided to protect the vulnerable badger in his hands and pointed to the bed as he stated easily, "Sleep longer if you need to, I will return soon."

_I need to make sure Malik didn't suffocate in that tiny mouse sized room_, he pondered on the well-being of his friend and hoped he wasn't clawing madly at the walls with claustrophobia. It wasn't his intention for Malik to have a tiny room but his private mission outweighed Malik's comfort because Altaïr definitely wasn't going to have Vivian ignoring or tearing into him throughout the journey.

She smiled happily to the option of sleeping in and grabbed his pillow into her arms with a gleeful squeeze and dove back into the warm bed with an agreeable yawn, "Will do, sir."

Altaïr couldn't help but think she resembled a rolled up caterpillar as she snuggled back into the sheets while Vivian picked up the faintest scent of leather on his pillow.

It suited him.

* * *

The arrival to the heart of Giza had excited the weary body of Vivian and sent her into hysterical giggles the second she'd spotted the pyramids from afar, pointing them out ecstatically to a bored 'can I hunt down Templars?' Altaïr and landmark curious Malik. Altaïr decided to keep her close before she ran off into the crowds like a child in a candy store and Vivian was forced to stay in the man's grip as they blended into the moving crowd of travelers and residents. After their blowout in the inn the previous night, they'd kept their conversation to a minimum as the first hours were critical to reassemble their shaky foundation. Plus, with their tendencies to argue, it could unravel within seconds and hurl them into a relentless hurricane of insults. Malik tried to help them bridge a friendship with playful banter or simple humor, nothing that attacked personally, since he had no intention of sleeping in a box for another night. His sense of humor worked for Vivian, who was naturally playful at heart, while Altaïr was inexperienced in the field of humor and related _everything_ in his life to assassinating (Vivian didn't know how poor Malik survived for so long without a meltdown). It wasn't the best mixture but Malik somehow managed to survive unscathed in his jokes with him so he'd carefully guide her through the figurative minefield of Altaïr's psyche to reach a level of established trust.

"Play the meek woman and stand by my side, understood?" Altaïr ordered firmly with a whisper since commands were usually the best ways to warrant her immediate attention but kept the sharp edge sustained. If she wanted to survive in his world, she'd better learn the customs of each land and the world's norms with each tidbit that he gave her. This was easy as pie for Vivian since she found it a fitting situation to feel comfortable; it was an archaic version of an open swap meet.

"If you're so determined to keep me with you, all you have to do is ask" she pointed out with a naughty voice to irk his natural defenses and looped her left arm through his right with a large comical grin. He tried to wriggle out of her grip immediately, resembling a wriggling eel in the middle of a walking crowd, as Malik laughed from behind them with amusement. Well, at least they were initiating physical contact that didn't involve physical beatings. Altaïr turned around with the ferocity of a lion and shot him a furious glare because having Vivian stuck to him like glue broke all barriers of his personal space. She chose to ignore his visible discomfort to see if she could desensitize him to it (he treated touching as a severe allergy anyway) and pulled him along as she rambled on about her shopping list, "Now, I need to restock and find- oh my Gandalf, a hygiene stand!"

This was her lucky day!

Before he could reprimand her that they were there to start the trail to the piece of Eden, Vivian yanked him forward with the strength of ten men that betrayed her petite form. His honey toned eyes widened to being pulled away from Malik like a rag doll but she'd spotted items she sorely needed and would not let anything get in her way- present assassin included. The wooden shop invited her with its alluring shade and the merchant didn't have to tell her more about the baking soda gargle with its cleansing properties; she'd already slapped her durham coins onto the table without counting to buy a small bag. Malik shook his head with dismay to her lack of currency counting skills and fixed the right amount to hand it over to the merchant before they ended up poor. Vivian smiled sheepishly to her sudden mishap, involuntary squeezing Altaïr's arm (his teeth were close to baring as they grit tightly to the point of breaking) as she murmured, "Thanks."

"We really need to work on your money counting skills" Malik sighed with a brotherly tsk and she rolled her shoulders sheepishly since mouth gargle was pretty exciting. Who wouldn't want natural mouthwash in that era? Toothbrushes were sorely lacking! Altaïr didn't appreciate being handled like a child's rag doll but at the same time, wasn't willing to risk her running off on her own to explore. If that happened . . . he was tempted to hang himself to save his soul the traumatizing trouble.

When she spotted a toothbrush made of wood and dense horse hair bristles, she didn't care about the discomfort it would cause her gums as long as it kept her mouth squeaky clean. Oh, how she longed for floss. She'd had enough of Altaïr's use of a miswak tree shrub for tooth cleaning, which did absolutely nothing at fighting plaque or cavities, and wanted something more decent. Quite honestly, they deserved it with the kind of lifestyle they were living and declared fervently with a mad gleam in her green eye, "I want _that_!"

"You have a perfectly good tooth cleaner at home" the master assassin chastised with ample reason to dissuade her impulsive shopping because food was their main priority. He'd already bought her robes and splurging on her wants wouldn't bode well for any of them; he'd spank her with the oar if she tried to rebel. New friendship or not, she would have to learn that not everything could be had in life- especially when involved with the assassin's order.

"Yeah, it's great getting little splinters on my gums to flash people with" she stated sarcastically to the bothersome method of tooth cleaning and desperately wanted that bristled toothbrush. It wasn't what modern times could give her but it definitely beat a stick by a long mile. There were days she didn't want to use the thing for fear that she'd get a splinter she couldn't remove with a needle and almost cried the first time she'd used on. This was a battle she would fight for fiercely and clung to his arm, immobilizing him from leaving the area (she'd cling and dig her feet into the dirt if he tried) and Malik kept his distance to see how this new problem would be solved. Would they reach a compromise like civilized adults or blow into a brawl like rabid dogs? He could only wonder what occurred in that bedroom to simmer their previous rage but since blood splatter and broken furniture lacked, he had faith in the two. Vivian jabbed her index finger in emphasis to the toothbrush that laid innocently on the counter and explained knowingly, "This is similar to what I use and I'm getting it so nyeh! Your mouth and teeth will thank me."

Altaïr narrowed his eyes with contempt because his appearance was quite all right in his opinion, given his profession, and leaned closer to snap heatedly, "Not when you insult my hygiene."

She glanced at the other items on the store counter since debating him wasn't her intention this early in the day and didn't want to risk a relapse to their old attitudes. How could she reach an agreement with the cranky assassin? Hygiene and a better standard of living weren't helping her cause. What would appeal to Altaïr? Her mind melted into his usual persona to try to find his Achilles' heel and all she could reach were the 'creed this', 'assassins this', and 'Templars that'- everything in his life relating the Order. Bingo! Pursing her lips thoughtfully, she smiled calmly to restate her words in a brighter sense as she utilized the heart of his beliefs, "Actually, you're very well groomed for a man of your time. I don't imagine assassins would let themselves get spotted by their body odor and this little brush would come in handy quite well. Remember tenant #2, buddy."

"I don't feel comfortable with this 'buddy' thing" he stated grumpily with a frown to this new 'friendship' of theirs but Malik nudged him aside before the two began an argument. The master assassin waved him away with a soft grunt since he wasn't going to insult Vivian, merely offering his opinion about this new relationship of theirs. Also, he had to grudgingly admire her craftiness for latching onto the tenants of the order to justify her purchase of a simple _toothbrush_. It was certainly nice not to have to fight her every step of the way but at the same time, he felt a little empty for lacking her witty challenge. Had he inadvertently become accustomed to their little spats since leaving Masyaf? Malik raised a left eyebrow in curiosity to his friend's glazed expression and hoped he had accepted his new role. Trust was a big issue for Altaïr but he seemed to work around that with the ex-Templar Maria, a previous _enemy_, so Malik- always the optimist- would remain watchful.

Malik would wait almost a year before that happened and by then, he would be prying the two apart for a completely different reason.

Both men, however, balked when she brought up without shame to the merchant (who was thankfully female), "I'm looking for items for those special days of the month where a woman wants to do nothing but lay in bed and eat pastries. Oh, and something to get rid of this body hair that doesn't include a blade, if possible."

"Vivian!" they exclaimed indignantly to her open manner of speaking and she waved them away with a motherly 'shoo'. Malik slapped a hand to his forehead to her bold manners while Altaïr scowled for not having brought his handy rope to keep her tied to his side like a disobedient puppy. Had she no shame bringing up such topics in public, with a stranger, no less?

"My brothers, they're very bashful" she piped up modestly to play the innocent card, forcing a rosy hue to her cheeks, and jabbed a thumb towards Malik. If they wanted her to play the meek card to get her items, she would oblige to keep herself alive and out of trouble. Besides, nobody would arrest a person that was a little off in the head, right? Flashing a charming smile onto her lips, she chatted up the store owner by pointing to the flustered dai and stated perkily, "He's my best brother in the world and the sweetest man you'll ever know. Meet Malik, an unmarried scholar with his own farmstead out west."

Altaïr resisted from slapping his forehead to the apparent matchmaking the woman was trying to incite between the two. Malik's mouth popped open to having feminine attention focused on him as the woman smiled amicably and Altaïr hoped there wasn't another merchant walking around that she'd try to pin him with. The dai wasn't accustomed to this kind of attention and almost blushed for the first time in his life, sheepishly coughing into his hand to ward away the tint. Of course, the merchant had to point her dainty finger towards Altaïr and ask curiously, "And him?"

"Oh, he's married to a wash maid but he pees himself constantly so I pity her" Vivian informed casually with a sorrowful pout and Altaïr restrained himself from chucking her into the nearest bale of hay for the persona she pinned on him. How dare she tell others he wet himself like an uncivilized animal? Instead of resorting to his old attitude where he chased her through a field while brandishing his hidden blade, he leaned against her and pinched her on the left side in warning. His ears were delighted as he enjoyed the little squeak of alarm she gave, her hands slapping him away by the arm for the little jolt of pain before rubbing her side to dull it. The strikes caused absolutely no damage but she was ready to bite his head off about it until-

"Buy your. . .female items" he snapped awkwardly with a small grimace on his lips as he allowed her time to run that special errand since the female body worked differently than his own and she promised she'd be quick about it. As long as she never mentioned female physiology again, he would be glad. Their disagreement came to an abrupt end without violence as they reached a suitable compromise and he cleared his throat to inform the merchant gruffly, "I _don't_ pee myself."

He walked towards a nearby bench to sit and await her return to resume their journey, blending amongst the people sitting on it.

* * *

"I can't believe you just let him leave with her!"

Vivian took away her hands from her ears since Altaïr's nonstop yelling had caused a dull ringing in one and retorted matter-of-factly, "You're the boss, you could've said otherwise. Malik needs some lovin' on this journey and I'm helping our friend after he's had to bear our crazy spats. Not many would withstand us. Besides, you got _your_ loving in Acre-"

"Vivian!" Altaïr reprimanded her sharply for bringing up his private life in the open public and she covered her ears again with a wince. Ugh, if this was his friendly side, she wasn't seeing much of a difference. Even 'morning Altaïr' behaved the same! The people awkwardly staring at them and doing nothing to help wasn't comforting either- apparently letting a man yell at his female companion was perfectly all right? She really wasn't warming up to the 12th century.

"He'll gather the info you wanted anyway while we find a place to stay and trail after Templars" she finished lowly to reassure him everything would be fine and chewed a piece of hard candy she'd bought from the stores. It was rather delicious as the brown honey cube brought endless sweetness that was subtle and loved the taste of it. It definitely beat candy with high fructose corn syrup any day. Their friend had stayed behind to chat with the merchant, both to find information and have a day without worries about saving the world. Vivian held out her navy linen shopping bag (her sewing skills had improved rather well), offering a friendly smile to calm the storm brewing within him by asking cheerfully, "Hard candy?"

He refused with a low grunt as he kept an eye out for Templars, switching between his sight and eagle vision as Vivian provided cover as his civilian companion. She looked to his white robes as a main beacon for discovery since he had slowly begun to stick out amongst the crowds due to its pristine white color among the neutral colors. Really, how did he attain that spotless color? She'd been in the past for almost a month and couldn't reach that level of white herself. Her green eyes lingered on the fine silver stitching around his shoulders before lowering to the maroon sash around his waist and nicely suggested a wardrobe change, "The more we travel south, the more you'll be noticed by Templars who target you instantly due to the color. We might need to change your robes a little to divert their attention."

The old Altaïr refused change adamantly as he stuck to his rules but the new Altaïr was just as fond of his white robes since the day he received them after initiation. It was an honor to wear the assassin's garb after endless hard work, especially since he was their grand master, and wouldn't abandon it without a second thought. On the other hand, their creed demanded that they work within the shadows and never be detected by their enemies which would call for such a change. He paused for a moment to ponder over this, hidden by the shade provided by a stone pillar that held an arch over the small street as it bridged two limestone buildings together. Vivian stopped immediately to stay by his side and he glanced down to his white robes, studying them closely against their environment to admit slowly, "I've always worn my robes," the sneaky smile stretching on her lips had him correcting it, "in public. We're meant to blend into our surroundings but. . .I believe I've grown rather fond of the color."

"We'll make subtle changes, add a neutral color that matches the places we visit" she proposed gently to allow him to adjust to a change since his garb held sentimental value. She'd never had thought he'd be one for such after his stoicism towards everything, even people. Again, this was the real Altaïr rather than the digital character and she would treat him with respect (even though at times, she wanted to beat him over the head). She smiled sympathetically as his fingertips trailed over the metal gauntlets over his wrists and stated quietly, "One day, you will design an armor set that will replace these robes as the Apple shows you how and it will protect future assassins."

He frowned to the cryptic revelation since his order would rather have help _now_ than later and asked dryly, "Couldn't you just tell me how it looks like?"

"That would defy time and could alter you. . .but a helpful tip, don't obsess over the Apple" she negated gently to keep him on the right path since she didn't want him turning into Sméagol with Sauron's ring and sacrificing a part of himself to that thing. None of them knew what those objects were capable of during the long-term run with the wielder and she wanted to protect him from becoming something that would change who he was. She'd rather have the grumpy, cunning, and heroic assassin rather than a gloomy, cold, and emotionless shell of the valiant warrior he was. Her fingers grasped the ends of his as he'd started fidgeting with his right gauntlet, halting his innocent readjusting and assured his hidden uncertainty, "You will unlock many things to help future assassins but do not and I mean this with all the kindness in the world, _don't_ change. Some heroes make the sacrifice of casting aside all they love and what made them honorable, sometimes not even knowing it, to secure the future and don't want that happening to you again-"

"All right, I will agree to a wardrobe change" he cut in with a feigned tone of irritation before she blew into a longer monologue about the future and grabbed a piece of candy from the small bag in her hand. She directed a small glare in his direction for not asking first since he nagged about having manners all the time, watching him chew on one of its corners and he admitted a second later with mild agreement on his face, "Not bad."

Well, at least he approved of her candy options.

Eventually, the two companions found their way to a new inn for the night after Vivian and Altaïr asked the locals (they were trying to get closer to the pyramids as possible) while masquerading as a visiting newlywed couple searching for a homely inn. This time, Vivian didn't try to run off to shop and played the dutiful housewife with the assassin by complimenting the city in order to gather their information. The inn was decently priced for a small two floor building and after spending weeks on the road without a roof over their heads, it was a luxury they could afford at a dead Templar's wage. Besides, saving the world outweighed stealing from their enemies. They would be a little cramped with three to one room (Altaïr would pop in a ladder from nearby so Malik could climb in at night) but at that point, they could sleep anywhere as long as they were bug free. Malik had yelped one night about a spider trying to find its way into his ear for refuge . . . or lay eggs, it was one or the other. Vivian hadn't felt comfortable at the last inn as the owners kept giving her the evil eye for dropping their coat hanger and Altaïr allowed the decision.

Vivian opened a door at the back of their room, facing away from the city landscape, and grinned happily to the sight held within the tiny room, "We have a bath! Well, it's more of a large wooden tub but whatever! We can finally bathe like normal human beings."

The room was small as it held a wooden basin for old fashioned bathing but it was a welcome sight to both their eyes after traveling without decent showering. There were washcloths on the edges of the large bath to serve as scrubbers or towels and a smaller bucket lay next to a limestone basin holding fresh water. Altaïr didn't hesitate to call dibs on the first bath and walked forward to claim it, "I'm going first-"

"No, bathe _after_ you return so then we won't be surrounded by the body odor of your adventure" she interrupted quickly to halt his stampede and blocked the doorway by spreading her arms to prevent him from entering. If she wasn't so certain he wouldn't kill her, she would've cowered under his six foot tall frame since the arsenal strapped to his body alone could turn one into a little shaking ball. She pushed him back outside by the chest, bearing his manly grunts of displeasure to being forbidden of a squeaky clean bath time and compromised calmly, "While you're out there, I'll be exploring around this area, it looks safe enough not to get lost-"

"Shh" he cut in sharply to hush her chatter and she blinked with confusion to the sudden halt. She wondered for a moment if he was serious or faking an emergency to simply silence her (he'd done that before in the middle of a trade). With the tantalizing bath behind them, she wouldn't have been surprised since he was one to get results. However, when she sharpened her hearing to their surroundings, she managed to catch an echo of something. They could hear muffled voices nearby from within the walls, their tone frustrated, and Altaїr pressed his ear against the limestone wall shared with the next room to the right to see whether the voices would clear. Vivian tried to see if there were holes within the wall that they could use to their advantage like they used in spy films but no such luck, pressing her ear to mimic the master assassin. Altaïr merely spared her an amused glance as she tried to help but doubted her untrained ears would catch anything.

She shook her hands into fists when she failed to catch anything but inaudible mumbles that resembled the teacher from the Peanuts and grumbled under her breath, "This is ridiculous. I'm going in."

She grabbed a clean rag from the table holding their belongings and scampered to the washing room to fill a small wooden bowl with water from the basin (Altair hated seeing the clear clean water go into a bowl that wasn't his stomach or his body). Ugh, he wanted a bath so badly. Fixing her mid-length wavy locks into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck, Vivian smoothed out her clothes to appear decent and grabbed the bowl to exit the bedroom. Altaïr, however, wasn't about to be left in the dark with her secret plans and pulled the back of her robes to prevent her leave. She wasn't about to pull a dangerous stunt on his watch, ignoring the disappointed groan at being halted, and drawled slowly, "And what exactly do you plan on doing?"

"A simple investigation as I play a maid since it could either be rowdy guests or our enemies, who knows?" she replied cheekily to show she could handle a little recon with her fake personas and escaped his clutches to open the door with a bright smile. He really wondered about her sanity sometimes since being thrown into an unknown world could break anyone's stability into shards. Altaïr didn't know whether to call her daring or stupid for attempting her plan, hoping he didn't have to go rescue her in a few seconds, and watched her pipe up reassuringly, "I'll be back."

_In one piece, I hope_, he thought darkly to what their enemies could do if she was caught but placed his trust in that little badger. She'd done quite well for herself during the battle in the village as she played the innocent wanderer so maybe it would work this time as well. Nonetheless, he stationed himself next to the closed door in case danger reared its ugly head. If she ruined his chance at a warm bath, he'd be throwing her into the nearest frigid river.

Vivian kept an eye on both ends of the corridors as she quietly snuck to the door on the right where the noise originated from, her footsteps silent as she placed her bowl on the limestone floor. Her next thought was of course, 'how the heck do you clean limestone?', but doubted Templars would care about her housekeeping abilities. Kneeling down on the floor, she pressed her left ear against the cold wooden door to tune into what they were saying. It was a bit hard to decipher at first as she heard at least three distinct voices speaking from within in quiet tones, making it harder for the amateur investigator. How did Hercule Poirot do this on a daily basis with his 'little gray cells'? Nonetheless, she would make her assassin friends proud rather than doing nothing for them.

She kept her ear pressed against the door, pretending to clean as she heard details about the pyramids- the pyramid of Khufu, in fact- and smiled sneakily to her find. A few words about allies troubled her as she tried to catch anything else between their mumbles and grit her teeth at knowing the bucket heads were getting help from outside sources. The assassins had no such thing! What was so tempting about the dark side that people got excited over it? They were trying to extinguish free will and doom humankind, what was alluring about _that_? When heavy footsteps approached the door with fast approach, she scrambled to the opposite wall of the hall to occupy herself with mindlessly cleaning the floor with a dishrag while humming to herself. Oh dear, had they caught her with unknown psionic abilities? The door popped open just as she worked on a black unknown stain on the ground (she didn't want to know what it was) and as usual, Templars didn't hesitate to ask questions.

Her left elbow was yanked roughly by one of them as she was caught outside their room but she would play the coy card to thwart

suspicion. Hopefully, her ethnicity wouldn't make her appear too foreign in the land of Giza and placed an expression of surprise on her face when a Caucasian man wearing their camouflaging neutral armor demanded gruffly, "What are you doing out here?"

With a low sweet laced tone that screamed innocence, she squeaked her excuse by using one of the Middle Eastern accents from within the game, "I clean for madam. Honest apology for interrupting, I come back later."

"See that you do," she was told sternly as he believed her foreign accent and rudely shoved her away from the door, spilling half of the water from her bowl onto the floor from the force. Great, now somebody would really have to clean that up! She scampered off to the end of the right side of the corridor to hide, turning towards a small stairway that led to the rooftops as she waited for the Templar to vacate the level. The Templar's footsteps were heavy against the floor from the metal armor and she waited in her concealed spot until they faded into nothing as they headed downstairs. Peeking over the corner to make sure the coast was clear, she tiptoed back to her room to make sure nobody heard or saw her (smiling like she'd won the lottery the whole way). Knocking once, Altaïr opened the door quickly and pulled her inside by the neckline of her robe to make sure nobody caught her.

She placed the half-empty bowl of water with the rag onto the floor and fixed her hair into a neat bun to keep the heat of the day away. Well, her little investigation had gone rather well with decent results. Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she ushered him away from the doorway to keep their information confidential and explained with a low voice, "Yeah, we got Templars here and they're heavily interested in the largest pyramid here. There goes our plan for the homely inn where we could do our 'saving the world' planning but we have a tyrannical convention on the other side. On the other hand, this can help since they're in the next room and you can spy in on them. . .or you know, kill them."

"I will and I'll be returning at sunset" he informed her about his plans for the day as he checked his robes to make sure all of his weapons were in their rightful places. Thankfully, he didn't have much of an appetite now that he'd gathered information and knew he was on the right track. The witty time traveler came in handy for doing recon with her fake personas and he nodded approvingly to compliment her spur of the moment plan, "Good job, Vivian."

Her cheeks darkened bashfully for finally warranting something other than grunts and snaps from him, telling herself she was going in the right direction. Who wouldn't be happy to receive a compliment from one of the franchise's main protagonists? Altaïr would wander solo for this investigation to track down his enemies and issued his specialized orders for the petite woman of many faces, "Carry on with your idea but meet Malik in the center of the marketplace by midafternoon to charter a trip to those pyramids. Don't draw attention to yourself and be careful."

"Aye, aye, grand master" she agreed amicably because she doubted babysitting is what he had in mind for her and poured herself a drink of water from a jug on the table. This day was definitely one of the best since it had brought shopping, a mild mannered Altaïr, and results for their mission. The cold water was refreshing on her tongue after their short travel under the hot sun and she pondered aloud with an eager grin, "Now about your robes- oh."

The assassin was nowhere to be found in the bedroom as the open window with its fluttering wooden panel was her only answer to his quiet escape. The man was notoriously crafty, she'd give him that.

Her fingertips tapped against the wooden cup as she watched the sunlight filter into the room and smiled amusingly, "Well played, Mr. Bond."

* * *

"Vivian, it's not proper to introduce me to every woman we meet at ports and marketplaces" her friend lectured gently as they walked around the area to scope out Templars or residents that might know about them. So far, he had gathered from his new lady friend, Zara, that the 'strange foreigners' had been in the city for a few weeks and were frequently visiting the pyramids. Entering without permission was against the law but word on the street was that they hired various guides and thieves to journey inside. This coincided with Vivian's overheard conversations about allies within the city; either way, it didn't bode well for them.

The group had something concrete to go on and if they could catch up to the Templars and learn of their plans, they could have an advantage. At this moment, it was a race to the piece and Altaïr would not accept defeat. Their enemies knew nothing about the locations unlike Altaïr's handy Apple map and Vivian's historical knowledge, which would come in handy along the way. The problem now was how to eliminate their enemies without raising alarm and finding a way into the pyramid to find that piece of Eden. If it was anything like Ezio's travels, Vivian had to start preparing Altaïr to start jumping like a professional acrobat with flawless finesse (and maybe add a circus song in the background to lower the tension).

"Yet I don't hear you complaining" she grinned slyly to her crafty matchmaking skills since Malik never had much luck in comparison to Altaïr's popularity but quite frankly, Malik was the more attractive man physically. Altaïr had a stern rugged look about him while Malik carried a sophisticatedly clean appearance that caused civilians to trust him easily; they were her Anakin and Obi-Wan. Vivian assumed that the solitary life of being an assassin prevented a normal relationship with any civilian (sometimes even other assassins) but her friend deserved to have fun every once in a while. If that meant handing him a pretty and amicable woman with a figurative bow on top throughout their travels, then that would suffice. After all, it helped Ezio relieve stress (Altaïr's face had fallen with shame to that dismaying fact). Like the older sister she was, she wagged her finger and reminded carefully with a hidden mischief in her eyes, "Just remember my STD song."

He laughed in remembrance to her catchy tune when she'd sung about it after a talk on modern medicine and they'd shifted it into that topic since sex was natural way of life. Altaïr practically demanded that she wouldn't sing of such adulterated things (despite everyone being well past the adult border) but Vivian did it for the wellbeing of their love lives and health. When she cheekily stated that the contraception talk was next, aimed specifically for him and his Maria seducing hormones, Altaïr had proceeded to chase her through camp with his sword. He smiled at her strange futuristic ways, surprised by the openness of her society, and remarked honestly, "I don't think I'll ever forget it."

"Feel free to pass it on to the order, I don't want them crippled by any of it due to their ruggedly good looks" she piped up perkily with a goofy smile to the eye candy that wandered that fortress on a daily basis and Malik chuckled to her carefree way of speaking. Of course, that meant he had to make sure nobody else overheard their private conversations but she was soft-spoken in public compared to in private. They passed by a few horses eating hay within their private stable, her hand gently sliding over the velvety skin of a brown mare that peeked into the street and it reminded her of Shadowfax. How was that gentle horse? Was she being taken care of? She almost wished they were horseback riding on their travel rather than using water but a numb butt took the appeal away. They left the agricultural area of the city that was teeming with crowds as they headed directly for the travel service stands at the edge of Giza and she chuckled amusingly to joke, "Templars are pretty ugly so they'll have trouble finding anyone for some happy time."

Malik chuckled softly but waved a lecturing finger to remind, "Remember to keep those thoughts quiet and between us because having you chased out of a city will tire even the most seasoned assassin. . .but never hesitate in front of Altaïr," a playful smirk crossed his lips, "I like seeing him squirm."

She laughed to his admission since they were both onboard for that game and clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh of triumph. Vivian had found her soul mate for irking Altaïr as he'd allow her escape on most pranks and declared appreciatively with a cheerful grin, "Malik, you are the _best_ companion for an adventure."

Their friendly banter was broken into when a random man approached the laughing Vivian, "My, what a beautiful lady-"

"Hi-yah!"

The man that was trying to draw Vivian's attention (probably for courting) suddenly found himself crying out in pain when she kicked the man right between the legs. Didn't these men realize women made their choices in men for who they were rather than for what they brought? She wasn't about to jump into the arms of the first man who asked to court her, especially when she wasn't from that time line. Also, she was sure he wasn't asking for help or directions, given the number of people wandering the city. Malik could only wince in pain for his fellow brother since he wouldn't want that happening to himself; it was an extremely painful experience. However, before she tried to do anything else or declared feminine civil rights, he grabbed her by the arm to lead her towards an empty alleyway as they left the man cowering on the floor. If there were any guards about, they wouldn't hesitate to arrest Vivian for assault and for. . .well, Malik would be the first to admit women didn't have the best treatment when compared to men. Vivian didn't hesitate to follow as her foot throbbed lightly and a victorious grin etched onto her lips at finally being able to defend herself, even if it was an innocent civilian.

"Who kicks a man in the crotch?" Malik blurted with surprise when they finally stopped in a small alleyway, choking on his laughter with dismay to what he'd just witnessed. He leaned against a stack of empty wooden crates to catch his breath, hunching over to calm the bouts of laughter that wanted to escape. He could now wholeheartedly understand why Altaïr had dubbed her the 'little dangerous badger' since she didn't hesitate to claw anyone's face if they enraged her. Still, he couldn't help but feel bad for the poor civilian and would try to teach Vivian different tactics for defense against unwanted advances. Truly, he felt the dormant 'older brother' role fitting him like a glove once more.

"My dad taught me to never take any crap from jerks trying to get into my pants- err, robes" she stated firmly as she held a finger in the air in similarity to a lecturing professor and dictated clearly, "No woman will lose self-respect and must take matters into their own hands, like Batman."

Malik couldn't hold back on his laughter and sat on the wooden crates to empty his lungs free of hiccupping laughs. Truly, he felt more energetic when she was paired with him for investigations and missed the feeling of being an older sibling. Vivian brought forward that long forgotten emotion as he guided her through the world and kept her alive from both enemies and a cranky Altaïr. His younger friend had called her a bothersome yipping pet but he preferred adopted sister, especially with her curious view of the world. Vivian massaged her foot since she hadn't given the man a soft kick, a part of her hoping she hadn't left him infertile, and he warned lightly, "Kicking people in the streets is anything but subtle."

"Yet it's effective" she piped up proudly to her tactics and grabbed his arm to carry on their way, using the shaded alleyway to keep themselves out of sight. Sure, they encountered peasants on the way but once Malik used broken English to ward them off, they were left alone. Ragamuffin gangs or thieves were another unknown variable but Vivian knew Malik could kick anyone's asses into the ground despite his humble appearance while she. . .well, she hadn't figured out that part yet. All she had on hand was a walking stick and her helpful pocket sand, sorely lacking any fighting skills that would wow anyone. So much for being the new Chuck Norris of the twelfth century, right?

They needed to find a quick cheap ride to the pyramids as soon as possible and she wouldn't fail Altaïr since he was counting on them. This was the first time she'd actually started pulling her own weight and wanted to keep that gratifying momentum rolling, encouraging with a wide smile, "Come on, let's find a guy to rent a ride towards the pyramids."

He glanced at her with an amused glint in his brown eyes and asked with the big brother voice she'd come to love, "You won't kick him in the crotch if he doesn't bargain, will you?"

"Seeing as I can't run like a fancy assassin or climb anything like Altaïr without falling hard on my butt. . .no" she answered slowly to reassure her friend that she wouldn't catch him by surprise and he nodded slowly, holding her to those words. Vivian couldn't really do much harm against anyone as her handy walking stick was all she had to carry around with her for protection and even then, the assassins covered for her during a fight. She rubbed the bottom of her chin as she tried to think of an ace up her sleeve during a sticky situation and admitted impishly, "But I still have pocket sand if we need to steal a horse or camel."

"We aren't thieves, young Vivian" he stated carefully to point out there were people they stole from and those that were strictly off limits, bursting Vivian's bubble of indulging in kleptomania. She blamed RPG games for luring her into their endless looting, especially Ezio's magical hands in AC 2, and crossed her arms with a pout to having the figurative lollipop stolen from her hands. Well, she could always find another hobby in Templar slaying. She decided that Malik would keep her in line from bringing catastrophic mayhem while Altaïr brought the opposite (he'd already stolen for her) when they teamed up and listened to him when he pointed out, "Looting the enemy is different than taking from innocent civilians."

_But Ezio did it_, she thought with disappointment and imagined what mayhem she could've created by looting constantly since they did need money to survive. Otherwise, they'd starve and become peasants while trying to save the world. On the other hand, it wasn't right to steal from the innocent (she left arrogant and rich civilians out of that category) and she'd been raised better than that. As she walked in this new life of hers, she realized her ideals would have to twist slightly as she dealt with different scenarios and hoped she wouldn't have to face life altering decisions. _We could've created our own little gang of thieves like Robin Hood._

Every city had their low and high class boundaries, usually seen by the architecture and standards of living (nobody bathed daily though) so the two went to the cheapest area since they weren't swimming in money. They weren't even rolling in a bag of coins! Vivian was certain that eventually, she'd be singing in the street for money like a perky little monkey while Altaïr counted the earned coin on a nearby rooftop. She rather liked it since she knew nobody there that could bring mortification (plus, she didn't really exist) and wasn't going to be plastered on YouTube like people nowadays with just about anything, so it was a free reign. She was confident they'd get the job done as they strolled through the quiet dusty streets and assured, "With you and I on the case, we'll put the Scooby gang to shame with our mad skills."

Malik had no idea what she just said- probably more future jargon- and agreed just to humor her. The two eventually found a stable within their money range to rent their ride to the pyramids and just like Malik tried to tell Vivian, animals were only for sale and never rented (that would've given thieves a retirement fund). This left them to bargain with a public wagon ride business that brought tourists to Giza's pyramids for viewing at a decent price. Of course, since they were a small trio of visitors, they couldn't get anything special like a private wagon- even when she declared that she and Malik had five children staying with their grumpy uncle. Apparently, until she popped them out for visual confirmation, they had nothing and so, they purchased three tickets at full price for tomorrow's first trip to give them a full day's of investigating. In a bittersweet victory, they returned back home to tell their friend of the update . . . after Vivian snuck to the back of the private stable and restocked on their toilet paper supply of hay.

* * *

Altaïr had successfully listened into a secret meeting between Templars in the room Vivian had mentioned but it turned out to be for a single occupant as their enemies were stationed throughout the city while working covertly. Residents only knew of their interests in the pyramids but knew that no thieves would be so blatant about stealing from them so dismissed their presence after hearing no commotion with them for the past weeks since their arrival (they'd also removed any hints they were Templars in the Crusades). All of this was gathered by the crafty assassin that clung to onto the scratchy wooden ledges on the hot wall for hours as the sun beat mercilessly on his back but he was resilient. Altaïr had managed to eliminate three Templars in the lower outskirts as he stole their armor to dress up as the men (he wasn't a fan), checking out of the room in their inn to scatter the roaches and got rid of everything in a nearby well. He'd never thought of using wells to dispose of bodies and other evidence until Vivian told him through their morning stroll and he'd effectively used it to his advantage. Of course, he made sure to scribble a sign depicting it wasn't in working order to make sure nobody tried to drink bloody water.

He'd made use of his time by traveling to the city's library to peruse their record books and history relating to the mythology and old religions of the area to give him a clue of what to pursue. The beings that created the items had been treated as such, tricking humanity under their thumbs for servitude with their advanced technology, but he would unravel what he could until his time on Earth ended. His monk-like garb allowed him to blend flawlessly in the large and quiet building but when it closing time in the late afternoon, he was left with a handful of scribbled notes on paper Vivian had provided for him so he didn't have to tear them out of his own books. If time was on his side, he would come back on the following days to learn more. . .and hopefully, buy some paper with the extra coin he found on his enemies.

When Vivian and Malik returned to the small inn, they found their friend sitting outside the establishment on a wooden bench as he enjoyed a snack from a roadside vendor. The scene would not be leaving her for months, to say the least. Vivian hid laughter behind her hands to the unbelievable sight as she watched him lick his sticky calloused fingers like a peppy child as he ate a sugary pastry with an orange fruit filling. The poor man probably hadn't enjoyed such a carefree moment during his youth and Vivian realized just how much their lives varied despite they were both in their twenties. She could only compare him to a child born during the ravages of wartime, stripped of all the joys of childhood and pushed forward into maturity without input. Had Altaïr ever held a toy in his hands like a common child or had a blade been the first item he'd wielded? Children of assassins were estranged from their parents so she doubted he'd ever had a father's embrace, a mother's kiss, comfort during nightmares, helped their parents as a little cook, and many other events a child experienced. Ezio had bittersweet memories to fall back on despite the tragedy of his family's murder but Altaïr didn't have any of that. . .he was alone and the only one of his lineage. It softened her view of him as she watched him partake in an act that was natural to most but his fingers were so unsteady despite his natural dexterity. . .it was almost endearing, as far as deadly assassins went.

Time had allowed her to catch that the assassin held a sweet tooth while Malik craved anything spicy, leading her to smile impishly as she approached Altaïr. Malik could practically see the saunter in her step as she walked, stopping to balance herself on the balls of her feet with her hands tucked behind her back as she leaned over to observe him with a cheshire smile. The dai shook his head to his friend's sloppiness with creamy sweets since they were problematic to hold but greeted his friend with an amused tone, "Enjoying yourself?"

Altair's brown eyes stared back at his companions with stunned surprise and after realizing that he still had his thumb and index finger in his mouth, retracted his hand faster than the blink of an eye and coughed awkwardly, "Malik. Vivian."

Vivian, who always found herself starving nowadays, had her fingers inching towards his half-eaten snack as she slowly scooted up to him but he protected his treat from her clutches. A defiant hiss from her end had him smirking to her failed attempt to steal from him in plain sight and she stroked her stomach as she pouted mournfully, "I hate feeling hungry all the time and I know I'm not pregnant-"

"Would you stop saying bold words?" he scolded sternly before people heard her words, even if they were low in tone, and pulled her onto the bench in one yank. He would have to write her a vocabulary list of banned words if she wanted to utter just about anything. Malik simply shook his head to their antics but they had been rather well behaved today, he might just leave them alone tonight and catch up on his nightly reading. He missed being able to climb onto the rooftops to enjoy his favorite pastime but the two made it bearable within a bedroom as they brought the entertainment themselves.

"What isn't forbidden nowadays? What's next, I can't say _pants_? Underwear? Tampons?" she hissed darkly against his ear as she hated censoring herself and crossed her arms huffily, her robes puffing comically in return. Altaïr merely flicked her ear with sticky fingers to quiet her whines, enjoying the little disgusted whimper from her lips when he left it sticky. Great, now she really needed a bath. Her stomach grumbled to signal that it was hungry and she patted it to simmer its rumbles, looking to the assassin with humorously large eyes to plead with him, "I will happily feign a pregnancy if it brings me food. I'll even name it after you or it can be yours-"

He simply stared at her petty begging with a wry expression and leaned his head back against the limestone building to remark to the blue sky above, "If my descendant replays this specific memory one day, I give him _full_ permission to slay you without losing synchronization with my memories."

"He won't, he stopped after your lovey dovey time with Maria and he found a better ancestor with an Italian assassin who is quite more eloquent than you" she informed cheekily to verbally stab his comment with one of hers and smiled dreamily to the heavens above them just to rile him. Ezio did have a gorgeous mane of hair while Altaïr kept his shortly cropped. Altaïr snorted disdainfully to her words and the idea that there was a better assassin out there who was stronger and smarter than him, leading him to frown when she gushed with a feminine sigh, "Oh, what I'd give to be his sidekick. Hmm, I wouldn't mind warming his bed, holding him like a big ol' teddy bear, and-"

Altaïr hauled her back toward the inn before she was declared a harlot but she stopped him just as they reached the door, clinging to his arm like a stubborn cat. These were the times when he wondered whether he was dealing with a sane human. Her feet didn't budge from the ground as she held him back with all of her strength, the man was a mountain in strength while she was a flea, and hissed softly in reminder, "What about the bucket heads? They could walk in while we're eating downstairs, I should head up and give you the all clear so you can bring in Malik."

"She's right, we might have to do a little room cleaning before we leave" Malik stated quietly since he wouldn't feel comfortable sleeping in the same building with their mortal enemies. It was best to execute any that returned to meet with the others in that same room or locking it tightly to make sure none entered, as long as his group was able to leave by morning undetected. They couldn't afford to be discovered or reinforcements would more than likely be inbound and hoped that they'd covered their trails flawlessly back in Cairo by making the deaths seem like muggings.

"Leave it to me" Vivian offered giddily to finally playing bad cop against a bad guy and tapped her fingers together in evil contemplation to smirk confidently, "When it comes to interrogation ideas, movies and games have served me well."

Altaïr shot her a frigid glare because he didn't want her meddling in assassin business and she shrunk under its ferocity, her fingers intertwining together as she mumbled weakly, "I can."

"I don't want you involved" he stated firmly to keep her out of danger with the Templars because trailing and double identities were fine but he didn't want her face-to-face with one. Vivian's independent nature was ready to argue but her logic reasoned with his since she was a civilian, untrained to disarm anyone, and her shoulders slumped as she regrettably agreed with him. Malik found the peaceful consensus surprising, given their bickering for the past weeks but remained proud of their progress while hoping they stayed that way.

Vivian couldn't help but feel disappointed that they wouldn't reach the pyramids that day and would keep her excitement running for tomorrow, gazing over the azure horizon to catch a beige peak of the ancient structures. It was surreal to stand in one of Earth's ancient cities, millions of miles away from her home (which was entirely unreachable) and tried to cheer herself up, "I'm hungry enough to eat a water buffalo so it won't be pretty seeing me eat. Remember, careful with your fingers. . . Altaïr."

He grumbled inaudibly under his breath in reminder to an incident at the Gaza strip bureau where she'd grabbed bread and hadn't noticed his fingers searching within the bowl also. Her hungriness hastened her speed and she'd grabbed a roll, along with his fingers wrapped around it, and had almost taken a bite out of him but he'd managed to pull away in time.

"Let's go eat, the live-in renters say tonight's soup is delicious" she piped up excitedly to the aspect of hot yummy food that they didn't have to make or accidentally burn over an open fire. They weren't rich adventurers, or even decent in financial wealth, and enjoyed the little things in life as each coin they earned kept them fed to fight another day. She headed for the door to get things started for the night and smiled mischievously as her lie for Malik's free food came into play, "After all, an expectant mother is hungry enough to eat for three."

Altaïr would have to watch that sly little badger, she had a flourishing talent that could exploit their enemies. . .and earn them some heavy discounts.

* * *

**A/N**: It's fun to see Vivian and Altaïr getting along for a change rather than ripping each other apart. This is where we finally start to see Vivian take her first steps into helping her companions rather than keep back as she braves this new world she's fallen into. Of course, Altaïr will never really give her a weapon to use for fear she'd chop them all up (including herself). Next time, we'll have a Templar interrogation and their first trip to the pyramids where Malik gets a glimpse to the chaos the Altaïr-Vivian alliance can create, leading to Malik being kidnapping.

Thank you guys for your reviews for the last chapter, you've made this story number 2 in my story updating rankings. I appreciate each review, fav story, and story alert as it lets me know you guys like the story- and I'm more than happy to present it.

_papertowel1567_: Vivian's pretty much going to play matchmaker to get him some lovin' while they're stationed throughout towns. Malik totally deserves time away from the bickering twosome.

_DesertPaint_: Yep, they're on the road to friendship as their adventures will bind them. Altaïr is grumpy, yes, but he can be quite graceful since he treats women respectfully and although Vivian pisses him off, he'll give her same courtesy.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: I'm sure the matchbox room was one Malik will never forget and yes, you were totally supposed to imagine Vivian as that poor little calf or enraged badger. Altaïr has tied the poor woman enough to make her feel like one.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: Yes, the fact that Vivian's not your average 12th century traveler was enough to give Altaïr an entire monologue (maybe even a book titled 'All My Problems') about his mistrust about her. I just don't see Altaïr trusting anyone that claims to be from another dimension or the future quite so easily until they prove themselves to show their worth. Obviously, Vivian can't fight at all but her knowledge helps him out of a bind. You're right, their underlying issues aren't entirely solved since Altaïr believes he makes his own path while Vivian will keep telling him his destiny's predetermined due to her gaming brain and that will pop up later on.

_Kallios the Scholar_: Thanks for loving the story and dropping by with the view, I do my 'happy dance' every time I see one. lol

_Foreverafter_: Altaïr's peace treaties start off by locking the parties in a room until they're exhausted enough to agree with him. I'm glad you love the humor, I'm always adding in stuff and creating others for the next chapters. I'm currently working on the first draft of the Sudan chapter where Vivian gives Altaïr his first haircut.

_KrnYong_: Oh yeah, Altaïr is a complete bed hog and he shamelessly admits it. I think I'll be writing a chapter where he accidentally punches her in the eye and she returns it so they match. They're off to a better friendship now that they've cleared the air but the humorous jabs will be there as Altaïr learns about the anomaly called 'humor'.

_NeverGoodbyeRoxas_: Altaïr was pretty harsh on her at the beginning since his trust was a bit unstable after the whole Al Mualim betrayal and Vivian's sudden appearance was enough to make him keep her under his tight watch. Now that they've knocked it out of the way in that little room, they can flourish while also jabbing quips at each other. Altaïr is hilarious when it comes to apologizing because yes, it's a completely new thing for him and Vivian didn't enjoy being wrapped like cattle or dragged around until she gave in. We'll be having more character growth along the way but so far, Malik is the only one that's perfect just the way he is.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: I'm glad you loved it, everyone had their share of humor as poor Malik got stuck in a tiny mop closet.

* * *

**Next Time**: _It's Friendship, Just A Perfect Blendship!_

Their conclusions proved correct when one Templar decided to visit his dead buddy in the room next door, causing Altaïr to utilize Vivian's acting abilities when he had her pop out from their room to scare away the Templar by trying to lure him into their bedroom. Unfortunately, the man ran away from Vivian's odd advances as she'd dressed like a normal woman of her time during summertime with a toga-like dress of her robe. Both assassins didn't know whether to be relieved or shocked to what actually happened, leading Altaïr to tease poor Vivian about lacking feminine wiles. A poke to his left eye silenced him since reciprocation would've had the two assassins brandishing weapons to kill the Templar.

Of course, when another Templar wandered in later at night by bypassing open the wooden latch, the group had to jump into action. Besides, who would believe a Templar was out and about in the town at dark rather than plotting the demise of humankind in their tiny 'evil fortress of doom'? Altaïr had decided that killing the Templar within the room and sealing it shut from all intruders would be the best bed and before sunrise, they would head out under the gaze of twilight to escape with a head start to the pyramids.

"All right, let's get this started" Vivian grinned mischievously as she prepared to lure out the wolf from its den in the next room, smoothing her fingers over her fixed robe. They were going with the old 'damsel can't open a jar' ploy to beckon their enemy out of the den and Altaïr stressed for her to look decent but innocent. Of course, this meant a snug robe outlining her figure with a face that would allure a man of that time- characteristics she lacked. The traveling Vivian preferred loose clothing, more on the pants and tunic side, while her fair face holding streaks of sunburns brought none of that. Nonetheless, the upbeat historian swayed her hips alluringly to try out her amateur charming tactics while cocking her head to the side with a wide smile.

Altaïr's eyebrow simply rose to the tragically awful charm skills, her movements reminding him of an insane person wandering the docks of Acre, and bluntly stated, "I said attract him, not _repel_ him with an eyesore."

She punched him on the bicep for the smartass comment since he lacked female anatomy to do the job and left their room to knock on the Templar's door. Her gentle knocking did nothing to draw him out and she ditched her charming persona to turn into the woeful 'lady in distress' because it had never failed Vivian. Dragon Age: Origins had taught her enough to fake her illnesses. Her soft knocking transformed into banging as she struck the door loudly enough to catch his attention, hearing surprised sounds from within and footsteps in her direction. Voila! Seconds later, gruff male mumbles and an unlatched door had her face-to-face with a sleepy Templar that lacked any armor on- thank goodness he kept his pants on. It was strange seeing the enemy so casual, almost wistful as to why humankind kept fighting amongst themselves when they bled the same, but she had to remember the kind of things they did and kept her mask in place.

Immediately, Vivian reached for the man's arm on the door latch for aid as she declared woefully with dramatic flair, "Please, sir! I need help, my brother, he's been stabbed!"

The half-asleep man that stood over blinked lazily and pointed to the stairway towards the left that led downstairs and pointed out simply, "Isn't this a matter for the owner-"

"No time, you must come and help! I need a strong man because I'm utterly helpless! Please!" she exclaimed desperately and added a little feminine pout to see if it would help matters, pushing her arms together to lift her bosom and show a little cleavage. Well, dramatic soap operas did come in handy sometimes. She fought not to barf when the man's brow rose to her 'innocent' posture and seized his unguarded stance to lead him towards their bedroom as she mumbled nonsensical sentences about Malik's 'condition' to alert her friends.

_That clever little badger_, Altaïr mused with approval to her acting talent and decided that he would teach her defensive training once they had a moment of peace within a campsite.

At this point, Altaïr was searching for a place to hide as Malik decided to play the injured party by throwing himself face down on the bed. His entire body slacked as he feigned a stab wound, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed as one arm clutched the bedspread and the other was held over his stomach. Altaïr had to admire the ingenuity of the two as they changed the plan without a problem, wishing he held their acting talent, and hid behind the door of their personal bath. From there, he would watch and wait for his target to find the perfect time to strike without endangering his companions. He needed answers so knocking him unconscious was best but if not, death would be the only alternative.

Vivian ran in with hasty steps alongside the disgruntled Templar, pointing with grief on her face as Malik played dead and implored him to help her brother. She waited carefully until the enemy leaned over her friend to grab a nearby clay vase that rested on the table to strike like a mother cobra. This is what movies taught you, right? Using all her strength, she brought it down with all of her strength over the man's head and the vase shattered into small jagged pieces as it rained down upon his shoulders. The man grunted in pain to the unsuspecting attack but fell over the bed limply as he became unconscious from the blunt impact.

Malik was just glad he hadn't fallen on top of him as he quickly rolled off of it to move somewhere safe and brushed off any lingering debris from the vase, the tiny particles making no noise when they struck the floor. Altaïr quickly left his hiding spot to close the door before anyone heard the ruckus and decided to investigate, approaching his comrades. Vivian stared at her hands with stunned disbelief for what she'd done since attacking people day after day was a new change of schedule to her old routine of studying at the university but knew that being in Altaïr's company would constantly bring that. This was a fast approaching change in her life and she didn't know whether she liked or hated it, almost worried for the former.

_Why can't it be like Ezio where we can hire factions for this?_, she thought glumly since Altaïr wasn't one to play nice with others and preferred to work with his order alone. If anything, he was spoiled by being the best of the best and liked it that way. She looked around to find him for their next phase of the plan and jumped back with a small yelp when he appeared directly behind her like a phantom, her hand clutching her chest immediately from his silent approach._ Why won't he stop doing that?_

"You did well, Vivian" he encouraged since attacking people wasn't her calling in life and squeezed her right shoulder in support since she was a naïve soul in his world. She wasn't meant to attack people directly and he would rather have her as a decoy to bait their enemies, serving a support role while he ambushed their enemies to deal the killing blow.

* * *

_Thank you for reading my story and please, leave a review to let Altaïr nibble on it._


	18. It's Friendship, Just A Perfect Blendshi

**It's Friendship, Just a Perfect Blendship!  
**

* * *

Their conclusions were proven correct when one Templar decided to visit his dead buddy in the room next door, causing Altaïr to utilize Vivian's acting abilities when he had her pop out from their room to socialize with the Templar by trying to lure him into their bedroom. Unfortunately, the man ran away like the wind from Vivian's odd advances as she'd dressed as a normal woman of her time during summertime by forcing the neckline of her robe to hang from her shoulders. The twelfth century wasn't ready to create the fashion style of an off-the-shoulder dress and she couldn't imagine the reaction over a short maxi dress. Both assassins didn't know whether to be relieved or shocked to what actually happened before their very eyes, leading Altaïr to tease poor Vivian about lacking feminine wiles- even while breaking all of society's dress laws. A poke to his left eye silenced him since reciprocation would've had the two assassins brandishing weapons to kill the Templar.

Of course, when another Templar wandered in later at night by bypassing the wooden latch to open, the group was forced to jump into action. Besides, who would believe a Templar was out and about in the town for serendipity fun at dark rather than plotting the demise of humankind in their tiny 'evil fortress of doom'? Altaïr had decided that killing the Templar within the room and sealing it shut from all intruders would be the best bet and before sunrise, they would head out under the gaze of twilight to escape with a head start to the pyramids.

"All right, let's get this started" Vivian grinned mischievously as she prepared to lure out the wolf from its den in the next room, smoothing her fingers over her fixed robe. There was no way she was going out there with the altered robe that bared her shoulders and risk being killed for indecency or chased out of the city. They were going with the old 'damsel can't open a jar' ploy to beckon their enemy out of the den and Altaïr stressed for her to look decent but imperviously innocent. Of course, this meant a snug robe outlining her womanly figure with a flawless face that would allure a man of that time- characteristics she sorely lacked. The traveling Vivian preferred loose clothing, more on the pants and tunic side, while her fair face holding streaks of sunburns brought none of that. She would've been the greatest challenge to any modern day fashionista and makeup artist with her current look. Nonetheless, the upbeat historian swayed her hips alluringly to try out her amateur charming tactics while cocking her head to the side with a wide smile.

Altaïr's eyebrow simply rose to the tragically awful charm skills, her movements reminding him of an insane person wandering the docks of Acre, and bluntly stated, "I said attract him, not _repel_ him with an eyesore."

She punched him on the bicep for the smartass comment since he lacked female anatomy to do the job himself and left their room to knock on the Templar's door. Her gentle knocking did nothing to draw him out and she ditched her charming persona to turn into the woeful 'lady in distress' because it had never failed Vivian. Gaming had taught her enough to fake her illnesses. Her soft knocking transformed into banging as she struck the door loudly enough to catch his attention, hearing surprised sounds from within and footsteps heading in her direction. Voila!

Seconds later, gruff male mumbles and an unlatched door had her face-to-face with a sleepy Templar that lacked any armor on. . .thank goodness he kept his pants on. It was strange seeing the enemy so casual, almost wistful as to why humankind kept fighting amongst themselves when they bled the same red hue, but she had to remember the atrocious things they did and kept her acting mask in place.

Immediately, Vivian reached for the man's arm on the door latch for aid as she declared woefully with dramatic flair, "Please, sir! I need help, my brother, he's been stabbed!"

The half-asleep man blinked lazily to her trouble and pointed to the stairway towards the left that led downstairs and pointed out simply, "Isn't this a matter for the owner-"

"No time, you must come and help! I need a strong man because I'm utterly helpless! Please!" she exclaimed desperately and added a little feminine pout to see if it would help matters, pushing her arms together to lift her bosom and show a little cleavage. Well, dramatic soap operas did come in handy sometimes and desperate times called for desperate measures. She fought not to barf when the man's brow rose to her 'innocent' posture and seized his unguarded stance to lead him towards their bedroom as she mumbled nonsensical sentences about Malik's 'condition' to alert her friends on their arrival.

_That clever little badger_, Altaïr mused with approval to her acting talent and decided that he would teach her defensive training once they had a moment of peace within a campsite. She was developing a talent for being their decoy and leading enemies into traps but that also called for defensive strategies in case it backfired. He didn't want the poor woman dead since he'd promised to protect her and Altair Ibn-La'Ahad kept his promises.

At this point, Altaïr was searching for a place to hide as Malik decided to play the injured party by throwing himself face down on the bed. His entire body slacked as he feigned a stab wound, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed as one arm clutched the bedspread and allowed the sleeve of his missing arm to lay on the bed by his side. Altaïr had to admire the ingenuity of the two as they changed the plan without a problem, wishing he held their acting talent, and hid behind the door of their personal bath. From there, he would watch and wait for his target to find the perfect time to strike without endangering his companions. He needed answers so knocking him unconscious was best but if not, death would be the only alternative.

Vivian ran in with hasty steps alongside the disgruntled Templar, pointing a worrisome finger with stricken grief on her face as Malik played dead and implored him to help her brother. She waited carefully until the enemy leaned over her friend to grab a nearby clay vase that rested on the table to strike like a mother cobra. This is what spy movies taught you, right? Using all her strength, she brought it down with all of her strength over the man's head as he'd been inspecting Malik and the vase shattered into small jagged pieces as it rained down upon his shoulders. The man grunted in pain to the unexpected attack but fell over the bed limply as he became unconscious from the blunt impact.

Malik was just glad he hadn't fallen on top of him as he quickly rolled off the bed to move somewhere safe and carefully brushed off any lingering shards from the vase, the tiny particles making no noise when they struck the floor. Altaïr quickly left his hiding spot to close the door before anyone heard the ruckus and decided to investigate, approaching his comrades to see their work. Vivian stared at her hands with stunned disbelief for what she'd done since attacking people day after day was a new change of schedule compared to her old routine of studying at the university but knew that being in Altaïr's company would constantly bring that. This was a fast approaching change in her life and she didn't know whether she liked or hated it, almost worried for the former.

_Why can't it be like Ezio where we can hire factions for this?_, she thought glumly since Altaïr wasn't one to play nice with others and preferred to work with his order alone. If anything, he was spoiled by being the best of the best and liked it that way. She looked around to find him for their next phase of the plan and jumped back with a small yelp when he appeared directly behind her like a phantom, her hand clutching her chest immediately from his silent approach._ Why won't he stop doing that? He's like the white version of the grim reaper!_

"You did well, Vivian" he encouraged since attacking people wasn't her calling in life and squeezed her right shoulder in support since she was a naïve soul in his world. She wasn't meant to attack people directly and he would rather have her as a decoy to bait their enemies, serving a support role while he ambushed their enemies to deal the killing blow. Her recent ordeal with the thieves had helped cement that fact but she would learn to handle such situations with time, watching her nod silently to his compliment.

"Help me tie him up" he ordered the two since the quicker they restrained him, the sooner they could wake him for questioning. After arriving later than originally intended, he was more than ready for answers and would bring a whole new meaning to interrogations since inns were not adequate quarters. If the Templar decided to be loud and reveal their intentions to those sleeping within the building, a gag would deafen the sounds nicely. Either that or he would resort to a quick execution, not something he desired when inquiring for information.

Vivian decided to tie up the man's feet since they were less dangerous and grabby than wriggly hands, whistling a little tune under her breath to keep her mind occupied. It wasn't every day that she was aiding and abetting a kidnapping so her mind would cope with this new change. An assassin's life was definitely not for her, thankful to live in a dimension where none of this existed. . .well, the Assassin-Templar feud anyway. Altaïr, who was tying the man's hands together, glanced at her with a deadpan expression to her eccentric singing and flatly questioned, "How can you possibly find this a suitable situation to sing about?"

"It's ten times better than uncomfortable silence filled with suspense" she answered smartly since this was a whole new arena for her and continued her tune of 'A Pirate's Life for Me'. Placing her left foot on the bed's wooden foundation, she used her weight to tie the man's feet around the sides of those wooden beams since they lacked a headboard or posts to string him onto. Using an amateurish karate chop to make sure the binding was taut, she looked to her teammates and asked casually for their input with a sneaky grin, "Unless you guys are more comfortable with that setting? I think I can whistle the James bond theme-"

"Vivian!"

She quieted to his reprimand with a pout since he could definitely pull of the theme with his unbelievable acrobatic movements but said nothing of it, certain that a video like that existed somewhere in YouTube land. There would be another time to pop in with the jokes. His sharp tone was loud enough to jolt the Templar awake as they groaned with pain to Vivian's unexpected vase strike and when he reached to rub the top of his head, his hands refused to budge. Altaïr yanked her away from the man immediately in case danger arose, moving her behind him at a safe distance, and began to question the dizzy man without relent, "Why are you here?"

The man took instant notice that he was an assassin with his sheathed weapons and seeing as his limbs were wrapped tighter than a bale of freshly cut hay, it didn't take long for him to put two and two together. Vivian swore the Templar foamed at the mouth when he spat acidly, "Assassin!"

"Okay, we're going to skip the hurling of assassin-templar sass to get down to the nitty gritty" Vivian broke in between both of them because she wasn't about to bear a verbal throw down that would only leave them with future insults to use. They needed vital information to enter Khufu's pyramid by tomorrow night since the location would undoubtedly be closed to tourists at that hour, giving them a heavy advantage in retrieving the piece. With the Templars running about, they would be contemplating the same idea- unless they'd conjured another- and Vivian wanted that knowledge by telling Altaïr simply, "Just demand what you want."

The assassin grabbed the man by the collar of his clothes to lift his torso off the bed by a few inches and demanded with a threatening hiss that reminded Vivian of their altercation, "Tell me what I need to know about that piece hidden in the pyramid, don't act oblivious!"

Their enemy simply snorted with disdain since he wouldn't be giving away secrets and Altaïr tried to appeal to their power-hungry side, "I know the Templars want the piece and you are trapped in here with me, a shameful capture that will undoubtedly be costly when you return. We are closer than you could possibly imagine and when they realize we've infiltrated the pyramid while you were left behind to tell them all of this _after_ we've gone from this land. . .well, I'll leave that reunion to you."

If Altaïr would've lived in her time, he would've made a decent detective of the law.

However, their enemy wasn't going to play nice as Altaïr's words rang true with the cut throat attitude of the Templar order and blue eyes narrowed at the assassin for daring to say that. When the Templar spit at Altaïr in defiance, Vivian decided to push herself into the fray to get the results her companion sorely needed. How badly could she do? Nobody spit at her cranky assassin (especially if _she_ couldn't) and escaped with such a disgraceful tactic without garnering retribution, deeming a vendetta against the foul man to cleanse Altaïr's sullied image. Striding forward, she slapped the Templar across the right cheek and left an immediate red handprint over his fair skin from the strength behind it. Leaning over the bed, she pinched his nose with her left hand as she'd done whenever her younger sister annoyed her and demanded sharply, "What country are you from?"

The man was taken aback by seeing a woman take the interrogator's place, one with English features no less, and wondered how the assassins managed to nab one of theirs. The Templars heard rumors that using women was rare and most were unknown in ethnical origins, leading him to blink confusingly at the fair woman and sputtered unsurely, "W-What?"

"What' isn't a country I've ever heard of!" she pointed out firmly as her eyes narrowed to make the man believe he was a tiny speck in comparison to her, taking advantage of her gender as she threw him aback. Altaïr was a little surprised himself since she'd only showed her badger rage towards him and never against others, observing her dramatics to gain answers. Vivian didn't mind slipping into fake personas since her friends were her only concern, gripping the Templar's square chin roughly to bark, "Do they speak Arabic or English in 'What'?"

His blue eyes merely blinked to her questions as she leaned down with mischief glinting in her eyes and he balked, "What?"

She shook the man's head by roughly jiggling his chin, hopefully dizzying him enough to answer their questions, and peered into his eyes to state coldly, "Arabic and English, dumbass, do you _speak_ it?"

The man managed to nod through her incessant shaking and answered hastily, "Yes."

She squeezed the man's chin to the point of cutting off his circulation and grinned madly to ask with deathly calm, "So you understand the words I'm _saying_ to you?"

"Yes?" he supplied uncertainly since she wasn't demanding answers about their whereabouts and plans for world domination, becoming uneasy under her emerald gaze. It reminded him of a peaceful green meadow. . .filled with concealed poisonous snakes. To Altaïr and Malik, Vivian looked just about manic enough to scare the man into answering questions with subtle tweaking. Altaïr preferred the threatening tactics of the bad cop while Malik appealed to their good side- if they had any- by being the good cop. . .and apparently, Vivian would play the new 'mentally unstable cop' to throw diversity into the stable mix.

"So you understand that there are unknown unknowns in Giza and we must find the known unknowns in the pyramid before they become unknown unknowns?" Vivian spouted off rapidly to puzzle the man even further with the interrogation gibberish, releasing his chin to grasp the sides of his head. If there was anything she'd learned from watching suspenseful television shows that used confusing nonsense, it was that some people fell into a verbal hole that one could manipulate. This guy wasn't giving answers but if she could strike uncomfortable fear in him, not 'terror' fear, then maybe he'd let something slip unknowingly just to get her away.

As an extra kick, she added a twitching left eye to emphasize her little craziness. . .although she really hoped people of that rough mentality didn't exist in large numbers because psychiatry was yet to be established as a science. The passing centuries would not be easy on those poor souls that would endure such inborn trauma in their lives. It brought a shudder just to think about the old asylums that locked up innocent people suffering mental disorders just to keep them out of society's sights, sweeping them under a dirty rug like a bad note.

The Templar made her brief ruminations worse when he popped in with his same answer from last time, _"What?"_

"Say 'what' again, I dare you, I double dare you, you imperialist asswipe!" Vivian demanded harshly as she integrated herself into the fictional persona she'd copied off television and Altaïr blinked in surprise to the words coming out of her mouth. When had the little impish historian turned into a rough sharp-tongued woman? She was going to be a good performer as they traveled south and he might just have her dance like a little monkey in public for extra money. He decided to pull her away since the Templar seemed unnerved by her (rather than him, a lethal assassin) and Vivian pulled his hands tighter around her waist when he grabbed her to seize an advantage, utilizing his action by wiggling rabidly to portray herself as a danger by snapping irately, "You're lucky he's taking me away, I will gouge out your eyes and feed them to you in tomato sauce."

"Do your worst-" the Templar shot back as he managed to summon his merciless courage, mostly since she was being pried away from him and couldn't return to rip his eyes out. His order only met filthy peasants and civilized females in the streets, paying attention to none since only the rarity of that gender held within their ranks warranted respect. Women like that dark-haired banshee waving her arms. . .they were better off dead, cut off from society before they infected humankind's purity.

"I will castrate you and feed them to the nearest pig pen" she declared madly to add in her last insult, wiggling her nose with similarity to a hog, and the Templar winced since no man wanted damage in that particular area.

She added a low rabid growl to show she meant business as the assassin placed her in the farthest corner, his hands squeezing her shoulders to keep her in place and he smirked with approval, "Thank you, your acting is very believable."

Vivian switched out of her volatile character instantly, her peppy demeanor returning to her oval face as she smiled broadly to his compliment, "Oh, don't thank me, thank The Boondocks. They have some really good lines for nonsensical interrogations."

He. . .He decided to completely ignore what she said for the sake of his sanity and returned to his interrogation without mercy.

"Tell me what I need to know or I will cut off your limbs slowly and leave you in the desert for the vultures to feast on" Altaïr threatened harshly, widening Vivian's eyes to the tone of his voice but Malik shook his head from his spot at the head of the bed to show he was kidding. Well, he was always believable with everything he uttered and she could see why he had issues with acting when he was gruff 24/7. If she ever needed a bodyguard, Altaïr would have no issue playing that part because you couldn't beat a real life assassin coming to one's rescue- seriously, those innocent civilians in the first game were darn lucky.

"I will serve the Templars to the death, assassin!" the man yelled fiercely and Altaïr backhanded him in return with stronger force than Vivian's first strike, accusing the secret order for their atrocities. Vivian almost felt a little guilty for finding a little pleasure in that- how was she _not_ supposed to find the man admirable? Ugh, she blamed her hormones for that since a fangirl could never deny the awesomeness of the assassins but squashed any chibi versions that squeezed their own Altaïr plushy inside of her mind. He already gave her enough strange looks about her futuristic ways and personality so adding further mortification by being caught with figurative hearts in her eyes would not bode well. If anything, they'd take a humongous step back from their current progress as companions.

Altaïr's ongoing interrogation didn't seem to be drawing any clues from the reluctant man and Vivian pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping this man wasn't a 'to the death' fanatic. Malik had to remind him to cover the man's mouth with a rag during the interrogation since they were in a public establishment, which unsettled the dai because anyone could overhear if they pressed their ears against the wall. Whenever Altaïr demanded answers and the guy decided to spat vulgar language, Vivian yawned loudly to muffle the man's voice as she prevented his voice from topping hers. Malik had to stifle a few laughs when her random yawning rivaled a slumbering bear but the Templar had caused the passing minutes to become slowly tedious.

"You'll never reach the temple-" the man growled heatedly as he now sported a nice purple eye and Altaïr restrained himself from choking the man to make him spit out answers. Vivian's continuous yawning broke the final nerve of the Templar's patience and he glared irately at her to snap shrewdly, "Stop yawning, wench!"

"Make me, bucket head" she shot back with an upturned nose and crossed her arms to turn away snippily, clearly depicting she wouldn't fall under his ugly mudded boot. She wasn't about to listen to sass from her enemy and could see they were heading nowhere, grabbing her walking stick from its corner next to the door. Malik watched her cross the bedroom to stand next to Altaïr, his eyes widening slightly when she proceeded to poke the man roughly in the face and ordered briskly, "Don't ever call a lady 'wench', pal!"

With that said, she poked him in the left eye as a final insult that elicited a yelp of pain and she retreated back to her original spot next to the dai. Her walking stick never failed to do its job and hoped it wouldn't break anytime soon because all she'd seen on their journey were twigs. Her painfully comedic pokes didn't help their case as the man remained strong in his beliefs and she leaned in to state privately to Malik with reluctance, "I don't think he's going to talk. If I had ice and a torch, I could recreate the Punisher's fake torture scene but I have nothing up my sleeve."

"Unfortunately, I think this is our shortest interrogation ever" Malik frowned glumly to the cautious Vivian as she watched the other two men argue, their tactics yielding nothing. Her hairs stood on end with suspense since she expected the growing noise to alert somebody but maybe stone walls were thicker than the wooden version of her modern times. She wasn't accustomed to tense scenarios where a person's life was held on the line and Malik assured gently as he sensed that apprehension, "This is perfectly normal for assassins, once you adapt to it."

Her head tilted to the side since she wasn't looking for lifetime membership into the assassin's order, merely maintaining her role of Robin to their Batman. She didn't hold idealistic fangirl dreams of becoming an assassin and as the passing time permitted witnessing what they truly did, she didn't have a strong enough heart to do it. Yes, she could lead Altaïr and Malik to their enemies as a decoy but to deal the killing blow to a human being. . .she wasn't ready to commit such an act. Her dedication and morality played a part in that, hoping that the two wouldn't see her as fainthearted for trying to avoid such a scenario. Trying to keep a light mood to their current situation, she smiled cheekily while watching the interrogation and murmured faintly with wonder, "Hmm, I don't know whether to be shocked by this or a little aroused by watching him."

Malik's head slumped to her out of the blue comment and she squeezed his shoulder sympathetically since her little rambles could make anyone cuckoo in their era. He put a little pep back in her step when he admitted that her insanity kept them sane through the journey and Vivian assured she'd keep it up since entering foreign lands made anyone feel tiny. Malik left her side to rejoin Altaïr, who was happily punching in the man's sternum, and pulled him back gently to inform quietly, "It's time to finish this. We cannot risk anymore noise at this hour."

Vivian's eyes widened slightly when the situation turned into full blown assassination mode and had the urging sense to burrow like a turtle for safety. Back in the village, she had no such option and wanted to avoid catching any sights of real human blood spilling into plain sight or watching a person die (even if they were evil). Clutching her walking stick close, she scuttled up to the two slowly with nervousness lacing into their voice as she admitted, "I'm not ready to watch a kill, I'm not strong to stomach it. Just tell the guy that he wasn't tortured so he can die peacefully and we don't turn into them."

"You're definitely not assassin material, run along" Altaïr stated dryly to the lingering squeamishness in her heart but allowed her excuse to leave since she was an untrained civilian. A crazy stick wielding one, but still a civilian.

"Can't we just lock him in a crate and ship him to Mongolia?" she tried to bargain since death brought her discomfort but the assassins shook their heads in unison, their creed demanding that they not be discovered. Well, can't blame a girl for trying the paragon route. Enemies were to be eliminated and Vivian would have to adjust to it because the Templars certainly didn't think twice about ending her life back in that Cairo village. If she'd known her life would take a topsy-turvy dive like this into areas of questionable morality, she would've stuck happily to simply playing the game franchise and daydreaming about Altaïr.

Vivian left the bedroom in a hurry to wash her mind of what was coming, quietly closing the door behind her as she pressed her back against it and breathed deeply to calm herself. Oh man, she didn't want to come back to find a bleeding corpse in their bed and sleep on it afterwards. An assassin's life was not a pretty bouquet of roses and they had no fields of grey in their black and white world as the factions waged their silent war. She was working for the good of mankind and just as soldiers kept civilians safe by facing incomprehensible danger so they wouldn't have to, she would do the same. Still, she assured herself that the biting guilt made her human unlike the cold Templars, who felt no remorse, and when she stopped caring about the death of another, _that_ was when she had to begin worrying.

And so, as she walked away to find a pitcher of water to dispel thirst during the night, she pondered aloud with curiosity, "I wonder if I have a cool ancestor or future decedent here. . .or _I_ could be my own descendant. . .hmm, beats me where in Europe I came from this far back."

With a shrug of her shoulders, she hoped to drown out any noise that might escape their room down the hall and sang aloud with an off-key voice to cover their tracks, "Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go-"

"Shut up! People are trying to sleep, have some consideration!" a patron yelled infuriatingly from somewhere on their floor and she flinched to the sharp tone, ceasing her singing before her and her friends were kicked out. That would not go over very well with a certain assassin and she scuttled off downstairs to find her pitcher.

* * *

"Altaïr?"

Vivian couldn't fall asleep in bed after what occurred in the bedroom because one, they'd just killed someone in a civilian establishment. Two, his snoring was beginning to grate her nerves because he and Malik created the most unbearable snoring symphony imaginable in the history of mankind. But mostly: she was sleeping in the _same_ bed a man had been assassinated on!

The past hours had gone tediously slow as everyone had gone to bed without a problem or discussing their previous actions, the Templar's body hauled back to its old room since Altaïr couldn't lug the body down the building to a well. He'd sealed the room tightly enough to buy them a few hours of sleep since they would rise early but Vivian had a hard time falling asleep. She tried to leave the bed but her efforts were thwarted by a blanket hogging Altaïr that decided to claim sovereignty rights to everything on the bed, trapping her within it. Trying to wiggle free of the blankets ensnaring her to the bed, she heard Altaïr mumble subconsciously in his sleep, "No, don't oil the blade. . .must use. . .cleaning cloth first."

_Even his dreams are about assassinating_, she thought humorously to his random stream of thoughts through dreamland. The man was extremely dedicated to his cause, she had to give him that much and admired his tenacity to adhere to every rule. It was definitely a difference than the Altaïr she'd started off with in the game and even the snarky one she'd met in Jerusalem. Well, he was still grumpy and stern but not so much towards her since their little chat.

She managed to nudge the snoring bear awake when she yanked the blankets sharply to free herself, almost tumbling off the bed from the sheer force. With a soft squeak, she managed to grasp Altaïr's sleeping tunic and saved herself from an unexpected tumble to the floor that would've undoubtedly caused Malik to wake across the room. Altaïr jolted awake from the sudden pull since he'd been on guard after the assassination, sitting up groggily with half-closed eyes as he mumbled out a battle taunt, "Come on then, I'll kill you all."

Vivian stuffed the end of one blanket in his mouth before he decided to leap off the bed and fight invisible intruders, inadvertently waking poor Malik and tripping over his own feet. Altaïr looked to the culprit who dared to bind him with a blanket and found Vivian's outline in the dark as the filtering moonlight cast shadows in the room, already knowing a frown was on her face. How did he know? It was either that or a cheeky grin, and he doubted she'd be happy in this hour of the night.

He pulled out the linen blanket from his mouth with a gag since he'd no idea when they'd been washed and since he didn't fancy waking this late, tightly asked with a hiss, "May I ask _why_ you woke me?"

"I can't sleep" she replied flatly since her night was not going as expected, knowing that tomorrow should have a peppy energetic Vivian to lighten the mood. Of course, without decent sleep, she'd more than likely be grumpy or lethargic throughout the whole wagon ride. She fell back into the mattress with a tired sigh and frowned a second later since a living man had occupied it no less than three hours ago. It had an eerie effect on her since she didn't want that man's bad luck to rub off on her throughout the night.

"And you woke me because?" he drawled slowly to gain an idea as to why she did it because he wasn't about to offer company. Between killing Templars and visiting the library during the day, the night had exhausted him completely with his last enemy and he wanted a good sleep to replenish his energy. He was grateful to sleep in a comfortable bed that didn't feel like rocks or lingered with the threat of wild animals slipping into his sheets to attack and would take full advantage of it.

"You were hogging the blankets and I. . .I don't feel comfortable sleeping in a bed where someone died" she explained sheepishly since he did stuff like that on a daily basis without breaking a sweat but she hadn't. This is why she didn't use evil characters in a game or took cutthroat options to further her goals, cursing her nice side as it held a hippie peace sign. Altaïr didn't see what the fuss was about because he'd certainly slept in tents that belonged to his enemies after dispatching them because a pouring storm wouldn't have him sleeping outside out of respect for them. His enemies should be grateful that he even bothered to bury them in shallow graves rather than leave them out for the vultures to feast on.

"When we're tired, we make some sacrifices" he stated simply because his job was never going to win an award for the best profession or pay very well. Frankly, as long as he could keep his weapons sharp, have decent shelter, and obtain food, he would live to be a content humble man. He wasn't worried over the tiny inconsequential facts, unlike Vivian, and laid back down on the best to relax and try to get some sleep. The mattress was too soft to ignore as he snuggled into it with a soft sigh and didn't want to return to sleeping on the flat hard land where tiny rocks would poke his back through the night.

She balked to his plain reasoning and pushed him by the shoulder, eliciting a bear-like grunt from the assassin as she hissed in his right ear, "I'm not about to open myself to a haunting here."

"There are no such things as ghosts, the only thing you should be worried about are the Templars" he mumbled sleepily since they were the ones breathing down their necks, not specters in the dark. The logic of the time traveler was strange as she valued the life of practically every creature, a sharp contrast to his era where survival of oneself (and family) prevailed. He sighed under his breath as she shook the bed with her incessant fumbling and put an end to it by trapping her underneath one of the blankets. Vivian could barely let out a yelp of protest when he swaddled her like a newborn with his agility until she could no longer move her limbs, feeling eerily similar to an ancient mummy and groaned miserably to her luck.

"You're swaddling me against my will" she mumbled pathetically as her body was deemed immobile by his blanket folding skills and was stumped to that uncanny ability. Was there anything he couldn't do? Kicking her legs were no good and neither were bending her arms as she'd become a trap in a blanket cocoon that. . .was oddly comforting. If this is how babies felt, the sensation was warmly marvelous as the snug wrapping spelled safety.

In an unusual characteristic, Altaïr took on the once in a lifetime role of a father eagle and patted the top of Vivian's moppy hair as she remained immobile. Vivian didn't appreciate being restrained like Neville of the Harry Potter novels. . .but it was strangely soothing. The warmth and comfort in the confined space was unnerving and welcoming at the same time, leaving her with comically rounded eyes to her acceptance of it. This was _not_ how she imagined sleeping in Giza, expecting Altaïr to send her flying off the bed at any second by pulling the edge of the blanket and unwrapping her like a burrito. Instead, she lay there like a swaddled newborn while Altaïr kept her close by patting the top of her head in similarity to a cat but lo and behold. . .he fell asleep first.

Thankfully, his perplexing tactics did lull a sleep deprived Vivian to snooze like a baby a few minutes later.

* * *

"Going on a wagon ride to adventure" Vivian sang cheerfully with a sappy smile as she watched the city become smaller, sitting at the end of the wagon to gaze at the fading landscape like a young child on their first road trip. The humid morning brought the three on their first wagon trip towards Giza, the wheel creaking in their movement over the bumpy road as they traveled east. They had left the inn quickly before the early hours of sunrise, leaving a note on the front counter as Altaïr's crafty hands made quick work of the front door lock and they escaped into the empty streets of Giza to head to their wagon ride. They had waited patiently since they'd arrived an hour early just to stay on the safe side and had breakfast on a bale of hay to refuel their energy. The trio shared the wagon with six other people to fill it up and most would think a weapon clad Altaïr would be the main attraction but no, Vivian snatched the attention with her crazy quirks by gasping at everything she caught sight of. In reality, she'd simply never been inside a wagon since most were either used by the Amish or went out of commission after the pioneer days in the states. Who wouldn't want to go on a wagon ride in ancient times?

The assassin was thankful nobody tried to make idle chat with him since his social skills weren't up to par with Malik's and let his friend take over that domain to gain information. The one thing he couldn't bear was the smell of stale hay that seemed to pour out of every crevice and joined Vivian at the back to breathe the dusty air from the road before the wagon ride gave him motion sickness. Altaïr liked fresh and dry hay that didn't add nausea to the flipping feeling in his stomach, nothing else. He threw his arms over the back of the wagon, his body slumping like a limp puppet without its strings as his limbs dangled, and he sighed dismally, "You couldn't have bought a horse?"

"It would've taken ages to sell it and I would've grown attached" she reminded quickly with a sheepish tone since their canoe was being taken care of at the docks within a warehouse. Plus, with her tendency to fawn over animals, she'd never release the animal to a new owner. She'd tried all of the bargaining chips she could think of but all of them failed horribly until the wagon trip was the only suitable option left. After all, they weren't flooded in money and she pointed out earnestly to brighten his sour mood, "Malik and I really tried our best but unless we had five kids running around, we had a no go for a private wagon."

"You could've paid children to act the part" Altaïr suggested with his expertise to gain access to what he needed, aiming a deadpan stare at Vivian for her shoddy failure. It didn't deter her mood or the traveling decision, blowing a careless raspberry in his direction before gazing out at the fading city once more. She highly doubted he could've done wonders in negotiation since she'd managed to nab most of their savings while he tended to offend merchants or destroy property.

"This is what we have so make do. . .because we have to buy another trip back" she stated matter-of-factly as the bright golden sun bared down on them to roast their skin under its gaze. They weren't flowing in money and had to afford the return trip to the city since their mode of transportation was the Nile if they wanted to reach the other locations before the Templars. For all they knew, they had ships at their disposal to travel alongside the spice trade routes. At the same time, her group had to save whatever measly cents they could to afford food since hunting didn't mean a catch would always be nabbed while Templars probably stole their food directly from civilians. She'd never seen a depressed assassin but when he slumped against the wood with the consistency of malleable putty, she couldn't help but pat him on the back to empathize gently, "It'll be okay, buddy."

"I'm not comfortable with this buddy thing" he grumbled with a disapproving frown as he glared at the brown dirt rolling by underneath the wagon. With a horse, he could've passed the slow wagon with miles to spare and cursed his luck since he'd yet to have any actual contentment from any journey he undertook. When would he get a delicious meal or a warm blanket as a thank you for all of the hard work? Each bump over the uneven road and random rock they passed over caused his tailbone a jolt of pain but with his sitting position, the passing hours had numbed his posterior until only sharp bumps prickled his slumbering nerves. Uncomfortable with not being able to feel anything down there, he moved to the right to lean on his leg to give his poor butt a rest and growled under his breath.

"It's words like those that make Ezio the franchise's favorite" she insulted dryly to his cranky demeanor that day since he'd awoken as if a rod had been inserted up his butt and had yet to surface. They were lucky that the wagon was taking them directly to the pyramids and didn't have to walk all the way there as they've done for the past weeks to reach their locations. Quite frankly, she'd expected herself to be the one nagging about the unbearable weather but she was quite dandy as a dandelion while Altaïr was ready to tear out his own hair. She tilted her head to the side in hopes that she could draw his heated gaze away from the poor inanimate wagon and feigned a dismal sigh as she gazed at the azure sky above them, "How I regret saying you were the cool one."

She opened her arms to the sun for an invisible embrace and declared aloud, "Take me to Ezio. I take back everything I ever said, I want to hang out with Leo and Mario during the renaissance. I'll even kiss Ezio if that's what it takes. He's probably riddled with disease but what isn't nowadays?"

"And the sun has officially killed your mind" Altaïr stated sarcastically since he wasn't keen on being insulted because he made do with what life provided him in the 1190s. He didn't know who this popular Ezio was, except from what she mumbled incoherently during her sleep, but he was pretty sure that he was an assassin. He didn't really care what she thought of him but a piece of his ego itched to know who this spectacular assassin was that apparently had a horde of followers worldwide. Did this 'Ezio's skills surpass his own? He highly doubted it since he'd been trained since childhood but the question still poked at his mind, remembering he had to keep that awful hubris in check.

She spotted a small animal scurry by across the path after the wagon's clearance gave the all clear for the little plated creature to safely cross, drawing Vivian's intrigue as she called out giddily, "Look, a 'dillo!"

"My attention no longer cares to sightsee" he muttered listlessly about the scampering armadillo since he preferred horse riding rather than a public wagon ride, slumping once more in his corner as he tried to avoid the sun's glare. Of course, that was easier said than done as he baked in the wooden coffin with wheels and yearned to splash in a cold pool of water until his skin wrinkled. For the first time in his life, he _yearned_ for a body of water to quench the thirst of his poor flesh. Resting his back against the wood, he leaned his head on the top of it to sigh aloud with the exasperated tone of a wet cat, "I'd _welcome_ thieves at this moment-"

"Thieves?," the people in their wagon suddenly exclaimed as he was overheard quite clearly, the lack of a decent breeze aiding his audio projection, and heads snapped in all directions to verify. Vivian didn't know whether to tell them the truth or keep quiet since the women onboard kept meekly silent, following the era's norms, and she absolutely hated that. That wasn't to say she was a natural motor mouth but a peep once in a while was better than nothing at all, wishing she didn't have to share all of her conversations with the grumpy Altaïr.

Malik shot his hooded friend a glare for letting his thoughts slip out for everyone to hear and tried to calm the innocent civilians from falling into a false sense of fear. During these turbulent times, thieves roamed any roads and were ready to rob travelers blind from all of their belongings- killing them if they needed to. Malik didn't want a bounty on his head, nor on his friends, because they had to keep themselves inconspicuous at all costs and assured the people sitting within the wagon as they clutched their packs tightly, "There are no thieves, he was simply being dramatic-"

"I bet _they're_ thieves!" someone accused from up ahead and Vivian snorted to the mere idea because she'd more likely fall off the wagon than tear the belongings from somebody's arms. She couldn't even swat a fly on her bravest day and had already faced thieves herself so she could scratch that implication off. After all, she hadn't reached the point where she covered herself from head to toe in clothing and forgot all about her hygiene to emit a stink within a two foot radius. Yeah, those wandering thieves had smelled _that_ badly and thanked the glorious company of the fresh-faced assassins who maintained their cleanliness.

"Trust me, there's nothing worth of value in this place or on any of you" she informed casually with a wave of her hand as her notorious gaming kleptomania took hold. Whenever she could find anything to loot without causing anyone harm or making innocent people lose money, you bet she'd scamper off with it and protect her new find. Altaïr had already caught her last night as she'd tried to leave with three extra morsels of cheese from the kitchen, prompting him to steal and eat two of them to show her a lesson.

Of course, civilians in that era were spooked with just about anything relating to stealing and worried murmurs erupted through the small group as Malik tried to dissuade their worries. He fabricated a story about them wandering south from Greece as he and Altaïr were fabric salesmen while Vivian had tagged along, being Altaïr's younger half-sibling, to find a new city for business. He tried to imprint that lie into their minds as they eyed his friends suspiciously and placed his most charming smile on his lips as he assured, "They are my friends, I personally vouch that they are perfectly harmless-"

"Driver, they plan to rob us!" one of the young women yelped fearfully since most civilians didn't take chances with strangers, clutching her basket of items close for fear that she'd lost them. Altaïr wouldn't have been caught dead with such a shoddy basket, preferring wicker baskets using rattan out of all. Yes, he was picky but only because he sought the best quality products and didn't care in the slightest to what his friends thought.

Vivian quickly turned around with a flabbergasted face to their accusations and questioned sarcastically, "Are you people daft? We're traveling on a public route during _daylight_ to a place full of travelers. You, my dear villagers, are terribly awful at the power of deduction."

"They have weapons" a little boy at the front of the wagon told his mother as he pointed at Altaïr, the assassin giving him a placid expression for pinpointing him out of the crowd. Well, he was the only one wearing full on white against the neutral browns and grays. . .even the wagon contrasted against his clothing. He narrowed his brown eyes slightly, his hood casting an ominous shadow against his tan face that immediately led the boy to seeking refuge against his mother's bosom. Vivian gently smacked his elbow since any look he gave would send a sane person running off rather than sticking around to hear him.

"What? Are we _not_ supposed to protect ourselves from danger on the roads to keep our lives?" Altaïr questioned nobody in particular, opening his arms from his cloistered hermit stance to seek an answer from the travelers but received no peep out of them. They were too busy staring at his leather belt, which he'd been covering with his arms but lifting them gave each an eyeful of the dangerous throwing knives strapped to their sheaths. Obviously, this didn't go over very well with the apprehensive civilians.

Vivian stared at her handy walking stick, seeing absolutely nothing lethal about it since Altaïr himself had mocked its usefulness. For a piece of wood, it had withstood a Templar's sword embedding into it and Vivian carried it proudly after it saved her life. It would never see battle against civilians or harm anyone, serving a sole purpose of defense to the wielder, and she drawled slowly for emphasis while shaking her stick towards them, "This is a stick, harmless to anyone because as you can see. . .it has _no_ sharp edges. What danger can this bring? Giving somebody bothersome neck pain? Unwanted splinters?"

Altaïr snorted derisively because he no longer cared what they thought of him because his mind was on reaching the pyramid, drawing the white hood lower over his face. The hushed accusations didn't lessen and after a while, Vivian became bored of it as well and watched Altaïr's head bob with each bump over the road as he'd placed it over the top of his knees. The poor man screamed 'entertain me' and Vivian's mischievous side struck by reaching out to tickle the assassin with the end of her walking stick to brighten his sour disposition. Altaïr sprung out of his cloistered corner to bat aside the bothersome stick because she wasn't crazy enough to tickle him herself, jabbing him over the areas that the leather belt didn't cover.

Malik caught sight of what she was doing, watching his friend squirm in his seat as he reacted to her pokes while trying to swipe that stick out of her hands. Oh, and he was laughing- _laughing!_ Hearing him declare through fits of uncontrollable enraged laughter that he was going to kill Vivian with his blade overflowed the bowl of fear in the people and the tense situation reached critical failure. If he could've face palmed and assumed a new identity within a second, he would have been on his way to the Mediterranean on that little boat he dreamt of. Instead, he was forced to sit inside the wagon as he heard Altair's guffawing echo through the air as he declared manically through fits of laughter, "I'm going. . .to skewer you. . .with my blade! Vivian. . .I swear. . ."

Minutes later with continuous threats that frightened the entire wagon, Altaïr and Vivian found themselves stranded on the dusty wagon path alone as they were unanimously kicked out by 8-3 votes. Vivian didn't even know they could vote democratically at this stage in history within small groups and had happily filed that away for further reference. Malik had been cast out automatically as well for picking sides (and for fear he was a thief in disguise) and at the moment, wished he'd appealed for a separate wagon trial. The dai gazed solemnly at the little wooden wagon slowly heading to the pyramids, which were still a distance away, and felt a part of himself die for being left out there to rot. Instead of Altaïr leering at them with a blood freezing stare or his ominous glares of death, it was _Malik's_ time to unleash his very first scowl at the two. Vivian instantly latched onto Altaïr's arm with a meek 'eep' since she'd never seen him mad while Altaïr merely stared apathetically without an effect as Malik scolded them by shouting, "You just _had_ to scare people into thinking we were thieves! Why. . ._why_ would you do that?"

Altaïr scratched the bottom of his chin, trying to avoid being blamed at all about being chucked out of the wagon, and stated nonchalantly, "We _may_ have gone a little too far."

"In our defense, the sun might in fact be cooking our brains at this very moment" Vivian added in to boost their excuse and smiled innocently for extra points, confounded that she was seeking refuge with Altaïr rather than Malik. Had she changed the tables drastically in a world where nothing made sense anymore? Oh man, Wonderland was starting to look better by the minute. She sulked in knowing they would have to walk the rest of the way and hoped the wagon would lose a wheel on route for kicking them out unjustly. Couldn't people take a joke?

"It _is_ rather hot today" Altaïr agreed with a slow nod as her reasoning made sense, ready to latch onto a loophole that would calm the dai's irritation. After their rocky year, he didn't want to damage their renewed friendship and wanted to avoid future arguments between them. Malik, on the other hand, couldn't believe the fact they were actually _agreeing_ on something rather than tearing each other apart. Out of all of the times for the two to join forces, it had to be under the hot sun in the middle of nowhere.

He jabbed a finger towards them to keep them at bay from approaching him, already knowing that their innocent expressions were deceptive to the hidden mischief underneath. Separately, they obliterated each other but united, they brought calamity upon him and everybody else. His leather boots stomped over the loose dirt, picking up a small dust cloud in his stead, and he marched forward on the path while declaring aloud, "I am going to walk ahead and I would appreciate a little silence for the next ten minutes. Behave yourselves."

Both of them watched the dai leave, their faces etched with disappointed frowns as the earth crunched underneath Malik's boots as he headed east by himself. Vivian sighed under her breath since she didn't like having him upset, especially in that heat wave, and wanted her friend back to his calm easygoing demeanor. Who else would keep her sane and protected from accidentally being killed by Altaïr? The world wasn't ready to witness an angry Malik and she clenched her hands at her side to order Altaïr with gusto, "We need to cheer him up."

Altaïr directed a deadpan stare to the ecstatic badger ready to tackle the problem but his eyes spoke a different story because he just _knew_ she would do something stupid. Her 'grand' scheme would inadvertently cause him mortification, as if he hadn't experienced enough back in the wagon, and wished he could light her on fire with his glare power alone. At least that would break the tension and have Malik preoccupied with the flailing woman on fire. Vivian simply smiled innocently, swaying on the balls of her feet as she tapped the top edge of his hood to portray herself as a sweet damsel in need of rescuing a dai. She wasn't about to reverse everything the woman suffrage and feminist movements created, turning the tables this time because her friend needed the emotional rescuing in this case.

He didn't buy the innocent ploy for a single second.

Vivian's true intentions sprung forth when she slid her one of her travel packs off her shoulder and as he watched that sack of cloth bang against the ground, he wondered how that petite woman managed to carry all of those packs. Before he could call her a human tortoise for practically lugging around an entire campground, she pried open the brown knapsack by its leather strings and grinned wildly when white pristine robes stared back at her from within. She gazed at the stoic assassin who was more than ready to begin chasing down Malik for forgiveness rather than partake in her idea but Vivian chirped optimistically, "I hope you're not as prideful as you once were because what we're about to do throws it out the window."

Altair didn't really have much to lose at this point since his order wouldn't witness anything embarrassing and crossed his arms over his chest to spit out gruffly with reluctance, "Will it cheer up, Malik?"

She smiled with delight to have him onboard, expecting initial objections at first but this made it ten times better, and piped up cheekily, "With what we're about to do, there's no way it _won't_. It will, however, extinguish our dignity. Are you, Altaïr, prepared to go where no human has gone before?"

Maybe he should've kicked her out of the wagon to rearrange her logic back into its rightful place.

Malik idly walked down the dusty path as sweat formed on his brow from the lack of shade and hoped trees or boulders would eventually emerge to give him a small moment of solitude. Giza was a lush land but apparently, their path was anything but enticing as it resembled more of a wasteland with desert dunes obscuring the horizon of both the city and the pyramids. Where had the beautiful palm trees and rocky mounds that provided shelter gone? A quick set of footsteps approached from behind and his fast reflexes allowed him to step out of the way before he was trampled by the incoming blur of white. The sight that awaited him caused him to believe he had fallen into a heat induced mirage or hallucination as Altaïr zoomed by with Vivian perched on his shoulders, bearing her weight easily. She'd placed the outer layer of the assassin's garb she'd arrived with over her gray robes, wrinkling areas of it as she'd thrown it on in a hurry to get her show on the road. To Malik, she held the appearance of a plump hen as the two bore a stronger similarity with their matching outfits and Vivian raised her arms to sing jovially,

_"If you're ever in a jam, here I am  
If you're ever in a mess, S-O-S  
If you ever feel so happy, you land in jail;  
I'm your bail.  
It's friendship, friendship, just a perfect blendship.  
When other friendships have been forgot,  
Ours will still be hot.  
Lah-dle-ah-dle-ah-dle dig, dig, dig_

_If you're ever up a tree, phone to me.  
If you're ever down a well, ring my bell.  
If you ever lose your teeth, and you're out to dine;  
borrow mine.  
It's friendship, friendship, just a perfect blendship.  
When other friendships have been forgot,  
Ours will still be hot.  
Lah-dle-ah-dle-ah-dle, chuck, chuck, chuck_

_If they ever black your eyes, put me wise.  
If they ever cook your goose, turn me loose-"_

Malik shook his hands quickly to halt their horribly unsynchronized singing, Altair's monotonous sound clashing against Vivian's high-pitched screeching and begged them for mercy, "Please, stop! I understand your well intentioned meaning but _please_. . .spare my hearing, I beg of you."

They stopped their little Disney tune, bringing intense relief to the dai's eardrums as he'd quickly covered his ears by the end to muffle the horrible noise. He really didn't want to sound mean to his friends and only said it with the best of intentions because those two should never, and he meant **_never_**, sing together in the same room. Altaïr protected his awful singing by projecting the blame to her and cocked his head upwards in emphasis to state stiffly, "It was all _her_ idea, I wanted to apologize and buy you a hunting knife. I don't even know half of the words I just said."

Vivian lightly wacked the top of his hooded head to silence him, eliciting a growl from the offended assassin, and dug into the pouches on her assassin belt to fish out his gift. With a giddy grin that almost had her kicking her legs, she waved small asymmetrically cut pieces of papers in the air as she announced proudly, "We come bearing reconciliation gifts!"

Like a horse rider, she clicked her feet over the front of Altaïr's chest to move him forward and yipped happily like a child when he grudgingly obeyed (rather than throwing her off). She might have resembled a child in her overly large getup but she was still a part of his group, warranting some form of respect from him- he still didn't know _what_ type due to her oddness. Vivian leaned forwards to hand her little scrap of papers over to the puzzled Malik, clapping her hands ecstatically to her spontaneous invention, as Altaïr stated flatly, "She made you paper contracts-"

"Coupons" she corrected swiftly before the dai believed she'd given him assassination targets, nudging his left side with the front of her foot. Could he at least put a little effort into his facial expressions rather than sticking with 'dark and foreboding'?

His hands kept her locked in place from falling by holding her thighs but he shook to the sides on his feet to rile her by declaring matter-of-factly, "I don't know what those are!"

Vivian jiggled in place from the force of his erratic shaking, using the heels of her feet to halt his nonviolent protest to dig into his sides to stop his movements. With her current position on his shoulders, she was as vulnerable as a baby seal and had to keep her perch stable for as long as she could because the watchful eagle could topple her in a second. She ignored her fuming comrade as she used the hood of her assassin robe to wipe her damp forehead clean (it's not like she'd use it again), motioning to the slips of paper that Malik read as she explained cheerfully, "They're for you as a show of our endless love-"

"Brotherly love" Altaïr added in for correction since he wasn't the sappy type and kneeled down on the bare ground when he could no longer keep the fidgeting woman on his back. Her ecstatic moving had become bothersome to stabilize with his strength, wanting her off his shoulders immediately, and he grunted roughly with demand, "Get off me, you're crushing my spine!"

"I'm not fat! Even if I was, you should still be able to carry me" she shot back indignantly to his implication of her weight since she only wore her robes with absolutely no armor or weapons. If he deemed her heavy, then he needed to start weightlifting items because Templars were definitely heftier and bulkier than her petite form. Not willing to risk his wrath if she didn't listen, she hopped off quickly and patted the top of his head with thanks for playing as her horse for a few minutes. Who else could add that unique moment into their life journal?

"You assume too much" he snorted dismissively but stood up to ruffle her loose locks, causing a huge dopey smile to cross over her lips for the action. Her spirit lifted considerably to receiving it rather than hearing a scathing comment and didn't bother to brush back her hair from the mere joy of it. She was definitely an Altaïr fan girl again, ready to roam over sand dunes on his back as he played steed to her adventurer. Hmm, she could even make a children's fictional story about Altaïr, the purebred Arabian horse, and his trusty rider, Malik, a gold miner searching for adventure. . .well, if she ever went back home.

"Your vouchers are good throughout the continent of Africa and at Masyaf until this journey is over, mindless conversations may apply" Vivian finished rapidly with a voice fit for infomercials, flashing him a broad white smile, and Malik raised a brow in response to the end of their little show. He really hadn't expected the two to ever pull off something like this- especially Altaïr since the two argued on just about anything. It seemed that both held him in the same light and in the end, brought them together in neutral ground; he didn't know whether that was a good or foreboding thing. He flipped through the strips of paper to find some scribbled in perfectly legit Arabic from Altaïr's skilled hand while others were rows of sloppy scribbles that had been crossed out repeatedly and replaced by Altaïr's legible handwriting. It was plainly obvious that the latter was Vivian's handwriting.

His brow furrowed to her sloppy scribbles on the only paper she managed to write legibly without needing correction by Altaïr and Malik eyed the two skeptically as he asked carefully, "A free hug?"

Altair immediately pointed to Vivian as the culprit to that idea because he wasn't particular to touching and adamantly stated, "Redeemable to Vivian _only_."

"Free boot shining? Carrying Malik's travel pack for one day? A _hair_ cut?" Malik asked with disbelief to what they'd scribbled down as free courtesies and browsed through each little slip of paper. He was rather curious to what they'd offered in return for forgiveness and couldn't help but accept their kind token since they were all he had at the current moment. They were his sincere friends and as he gazed at them with the bright sun beaming down on them, he couldn't help but forgive the two because they appeared lost already. If he didn't broker peace, he was certain both would end their alliance and start tearing into each other like rabid dogs in no time. At the moment, however, they were two docile puppies awaiting a friend's return.

"We had to think fast and with ten minutes on our hands, I think we did rather well" Vivian replied optimistically to their halfcocked plan since their brains were almost simmering in their own cerebrospinal juices underneath the sun and smiled proudly at Altaïr, who simply shrugged noncommittally. As long as their plan worked, he was perfectly fine with its absurdity. Clasping her hands together, Vivian leaned forward to coax an agreement from her levelheaded friend as she piped up hopefully, "Friendship no longer on pause? We are ready to unleash operation 'extreme puppy eyes' until we sway your choice."

"_She_ is" Altaïr corrected astutely because he'd written several of the strips with his free labor (she should be grateful he gave it) while others were completely of Vivian's mind. That 'coupon' book idea was entirely hers because he maintained a strict two foot radius of personal space with everyone he met, even friends, and stated firmly, "I, however, will maintain the broken shambles of my dignity."

"Friends are a luxury assassins don't often have but you are my strangest friends" he chuckled amicably to their stark personalities and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders to carry onwards towards the pyramids. Malik wasn't picky about his life, grateful to see another day to experience life to its fullest and if he'd been deemed to live out an assassin's life. . .it would do. He carried on with his two friends, no longer angry about being cast out of their fully paid wagon ride and losing out on money they needed for survival, and sighed blissfully, "But you two make life the adventure it should be."

Altaïr shook his head as he was dragged away because he didn't want attention in the first place during his journey and pointed out matter-of-factly, "I didn't appoint myself the center of attention. Danger is simply attracted to me and our profession doubles it."

"You can't deny your charming personality has riots of allies chasing after you either" Vivian chided playfully to his cranky demeanor, cupping her face to bat her lashes in humorous emphasis to his lack of charisma and he pinched her side in rebuttal. He'd learned over the weeks that a simple pinch to her ear or side quieted her rambles rather than using direct orders and as always, it worked like a charm. She yelped immediately to the sharp little nip and batted him away with protesting hands to rub her offended side, "Stop pinching me, I'm not freshly baked dough."

Taking that into consideration, he poked her in the left side of her ribs and she jumped away as he closed in dangerously on an actively ticklish spot. Malik kept the two safely away from each other at arm's length as he dragged them along but Vivian looked to Altaïr to nod in approval. With tightened lips holding back laughter, she raised her chin to declare airily, "Better."

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**A/N**: You can blame the lateness on this chapter on my old dead laptop, which died the day after I uploaded the last chapter on fanfiction. Man, was I glad I posted it after the tragedy that set me back weeks on writing. Anyhow, no important data was lost and my fanfic babies survived unscathed. Hopefully, you guys loved this chapter because I was flying to get it out to you guys and had to cut out the part where Malik was kidnapped. Vivian's interrogation theatrics were borrowed from a scene in the show 'The Boondocks' and Altaïr's swaddling from 'How I Met Your Mother'. My expression was similar to Malik's when my brain farted out the 'Friendship' song but it fit Vivian's chirpy character and Altaïr's extreme reluctance. She's the pretty flower to his sharp cactus in the desert.

Thank you _so_ much for the last chapter reviews, I was so surprised to the number of them and greatly appreciated each one as they humored my heart during my lack of a computer. I'm absolutely ecstatic that you guys love this story!

_american pride_: Thank you!

_ccisawesome99_: Altaïr does indeed love cookies and thanks you as he dangles it over Vivian's head in delicious mockery.

_papertowel1567_: When he embarrasses Vivian, she returns the favor gladly. I remember seeing it on Adventure Time and had to twist it around to match Altaïr and Vivian.

_lostwithoutdoubt_: Yeah, I have a tendency to describe everything to make sure the reader can imagine what I'm seeing in my head because our creative imagination is what makes a story wonderful. I'm glad you loved it. Vivian's slowly blossoming into her own person to fit the dangerous life of the 1190s. Although she can grate Altaïr's nerves, he's more lenient towards her after learning about her circumstances and that she's only looking for a buddy to keep her laughing rather than going insane.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: Malik and Vivian will usually be the ones teaming up for investigations while Altaïr will head out solo. Of course, they'll drive him insane at camp with their little subtle jabs.

_Linda Chicana_: Vivian pretty much livens their poor living situation at the moment rather than ride on Altaïr's gloom boat and her references to his past with Maria will have him exploding like a volcano.

_Keely_: That's okay, life gets in the way and you have to ride it out. I have a few fanfics I should check on too before I forget. Lol. I'm glad a lot of the readers find Vivian as the average girl to befriend, I'm trying to make her as wittily basic as I can.

_NeverGoodbyeRoxas_: Yep, Vivian will get malik female lovin' while gathering information. He might just be the new James Bond of the 12th century.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Yes, I'm a serious kleptomaniac in gaming too and steal everything that I can- especially if it's tradable for money. When I first played the second game, I remember telling my brother 'it's just like grand theft auto, except this time people don't beat you up and you can go parkour up the buildings or fall in haystacks to escape'. I love your ID avatar, by the way.

_DesertPaint_: Nah, I won't have them gathering every piece and have her leave in a awing climatic exit- this is Vivian, after all, she'll probably fall in a ditch and totally miss the portal. I'm always trying to think out of the box for Vivian's circumstance but I have the foundation for her exit. I'm glad the humor amuses you, it's what I am for.

_starwriter12345_: You're so kind for waiting, I was going insane without a computer to type on but luckily, my iPad allowed me to do the first drafts of the chapters after Giza as they enter Sudan.

_Anon_: Vivian's going to have a few fangirl slips as time progresses because she certainly takes a shine to our grumpy assassin after leaving Giza. I think if she caught sight of Ezio in another time paradox, she'd be imagining a bright light and a singing choir behind him due to his popularity. We'll see more moments of a vulnerable Altaïr because he is human and is trying to learn to become more 'human' so to speak when it comes to interacting with others. He's a man that's only known the order but Vivian will teach him to have fun like a normal everyday person. Thanks for the awesome review!

_KITTY LOVES MATTXMELLO_: I'm so glad you have many lovable parts out of the story, it tells me I'm on the right track with Altaïr leading the way.

_KrnYong_: We'll be seeing 'pregnant Vivian' once more in the next chapter as it's her easiest disguise to sway others with and yes, Altaïr should feel honored to have a folded blanket named after him. Lol. Thanks for warning me on Malik's arm, I'd almost forgotten about it and rewrote that part to correct it. Good eye!

_bunnehTweed_: lol. Altaïr indeed does have his little sweet tooth so hopefully he won't get cavities because I'm sure dentists don't exist yet.

_xVentressx_: Yep, Vivian can get a little kooky sometimes in the name of friendship, free food, and defeating Templars.

* * *

**Next Time**: _The Robin Hood of the 1190s_

Malik finished eating his lunch of falafel and chicken kebabs with a satiated smile because the entire walk to the pyramids hadn't been short. By the time they'd arrived, Vivian had toppled over her own two feet and brought the two men down to their knees by pulling on the end of their robes. Their first task had been to replenish their canteens and find the nearest public outhouse, drawing disgust from Vivian to its horrible unkempt condition and smell. Once Altaïr reassured Vivian that she could use the bushes once they were out of Giza, he pried her off his back to find a decent food merchant to buy a snack from.

They had found a very nice shady area to have their meal at, sharing the spot with the food vendor and a water merchant; they couldn't complain to the convenient food access. The shadow provided by the large palm tree allowed him to observe the area more carefully but thankfully, hadn't spotted any wandering Templars that could discover Altaïr due to his robes. If they had, they would've dealt with a very drowsy assassin. He prodded two lumps lying on the floor on their stomachs and both groaned to being poked like meat, comfortable in their spots after taking a short nap. Vivian curled into a ball as the shady area brought relief to her sundrenched skin while Altaïr simply feigned being dead to cool his skin. Malik tried to rouse them from their food induced slumber by informing them, "Time to continue."

With a reluctant grunt, Vivian sat up with an unruly curtain of hair covering her face and absentmindedly reached down to massage her legs for circulation. Her fingers, however, felt the rubbing on her skin receptors but her legs perceived none of the stimuli she gave. Worried, she hit them lightly with clenched fists since she felt absolutely nothing and frantically yelped, "I can't feel my legs, I can't-"

"Those are _mine_!" Altaïr snapped grimly since her hysterical strikes had definitely caused him to feel it and pushed her aside, sending her fumbling to the other side with her legs fully working. She'd accidentally fallen asleep over his lower body like a cat, ignorant that he'd been lying down on his stomach and had struck his gray breeches which coincidentally matched hers under her robe. Still, he couldn't help himself from adding in a chiding jab as he smirked, "Your vision must've suffered through the walk."

Her cheeks puffed comically but before she could retort her own verbal retaliation to keep their renewed banter going, Malik stood up with a grunt to stretch his tired limbs and declared tiredly, "We carry onwards."

Altaïr glared from his spot on the grass because he was quite comfortable in the shade where he wouldn't bake and although the fate of the world rested on his shoulders. . .he _really_ wanted five more minutes. Malik had never seen his friend reluctant to move from a spot but the heat they'd endured caused him to immediately cloister himself to the shade. Raising his chin like the majestic proud eagle that he was, he closed his eyes to exhale softly but clearly, "I'm leader, _I _get to say it."

Malik won the battle of wits by fishing out his wad of coupons from a pocket hidden within the inside lining of his robe, waving the papers like a prize, and smugly declared, "I have a coupon."

"Go right on ahead then" the grand master allowed immediately to grant his friend complete control of their travel, yawning with laziness of a lion as he stood up on his reluctant legs. They'd been enjoying their rest but their duty called and it was a beacon they couldn't ignore. He didn't have doubts about putting Malik in charge during an important mission since he'd been the first that tried to screw his head back in its rightful place back in Solomon's Temple so he knew his friend wouldn't lead him astray. On the other hand, if Vivian were holding that coupon, he would've ripped it in half before he let her lead them _anywhere_. She'd more than likely send them crashing into a ditch.

"So, what are our ideas in the pool to begin this search?" Malik began optimistically to summon pep out of the lethargic duo because they would need energy to investigate their entry into the pyramids. Vivian quickly rubbed away any spit lingering on the corner of her lips before she appeared more unkempt and brushed back her hair with hasty fingers (which sorely needed brushing). Altaïr didn't need any help in the looks department since he dominated the 'ruggedly handsome' style without even trying, shaking his head to her shabby appearance. She merely stuck out her tongue since touching him in public would have all eyes on her and shuffled her feet over the dirt because no, she wasn't pleasing to the eye at all times- those were Sue characteristics. Hmm, had Ubisoft somehow given him a tiny dash of Gary Stu-ness? No, she wouldn't dare think of it!

Prying herself out of her fangirl thoughts, she threw her mind into the discussion and chucked out her ideas with a lively smile, "We need a guide. . .someone who knows every level of this pyramid, someone who's in their prime and smart but not physically able to defeat us if they backstab us-"

"We'll be here forever at that rate" Altaïr snorted to her pickiness but privately, agreed to those traits because criminals lurked everywhere nowadays. War always brought the worst and the best in people; unfortunately, they lured in the former in droves. Vivian had briefly told him a descendant would one day use guilds of other professions to provide distractions and he almost blacked out in mortified unconsciousness when she said harlots. Altaïr, however, didn't see the need of it at this particular moment in time. Assassins worked in the shadows as one or with the brotherhood, nobody else; they could not dare to risk themselves.

That mindset brought his attention over to Vivian, who was counting off her fingers in the most uneducated manner possible, and realized with dismay, _Yet again, look at me. I don't. . .I really want to know what manner of creature sent her here. I truly thought she was a foe but now that I see I was wrong, should I be worried for the mayhem she brings with her 'helpful' friendship? The ways of the future folk are not for me._

* * *

_My grateful thanks to each of you that read my story and feel free to drop a review, Altaïr thrives on the love while Vivian and Malik remind him they share the spotlight too. ;)_


	19. The Robin Hood of the 1190s

**The Robin Hood of the 1190s**

* * *

Malik finished eating his lunch of falafel and marinated chicken kebabs with a satiated smile because the entire walk to the pyramids was anything but short. By the time they'd arrived into the moving crowds, Vivian had toppled over her own two feet and brought the two men down to their knees by pulling on the end of their robes. It had earned them a curious stare, especially when Altaïr tried to drag her through the dirt by her right uninjured foot and almost flashed her legs (although covered) to the public when the robe rolled up. Their first task had been to replenish their water canteens and find the nearest public outhouse, which drew disgust from Vivian to its horrible unkempt condition and smell- even by normal standards. Once Altaïr reassured Vivian that she could use the bushes once they were out of Giza, he pried her shuddering form off his back to find a decent food merchant to buy a snack from.

They had found a very nice shady area to eat their meal at, sharing the spot with the food vendor and a water merchant; they couldn't complain to the convenient food access. The wide shadow provided by the large palm tree behind them allowed Malik to observe the area more carefully but thankfully, hadn't spotted any wandering Templars that could discover Altaïr due to his robes. If they had, they would've dealt with a very drowsy assassin. He gently prodded the two lumps lying on the floor on their stomachs and both groaned to being poked like meat, comfortable in their spots after taking a short nap. Vivian curled into a ball as the shady area brought relief to her sundrenched skin while Altaïr simply feigned being dead to cool his skin. Malik tried to rouse them from their food induced slumber because they were here for their final mission in Giza and informed them, "Time to continue."

With a reluctant grunt, Vivian sat up with an unruly curtain of raven hair covering her face and absentmindedly reached down to massage her legs for circulation. Her fingers, however, felt the rubbing on her skin receptors but her legs perceived none of the stimuli she gave. Worried, she hit them lightly with clenched fists to reawaken the limbs since she felt absolutely nothing and frantically yelped, "I can't feel my legs, I can't-"

"Those are _mine_!" Altaïr snapped grimly since her hysterical strikes had definitely caused him to feel the force behind them and pushed her aside, sending her fumbling to the other side with her legs fully working. She'd accidentally fallen asleep over his lower body like a cat, ignorant that he'd been lying down on his stomach and had struck his gray breeches which coincidentally matched hers under her robe. Still, he couldn't help himself from adding in a chiding jab as he smirked smugly, "Your vision must've suffered through the walk."

Her cheeks puffed comically but before she could retort her own verbal retaliation to keep their renewed banter going, Malik stood up with a grunt to stretch his tired limbs and declared tiredly, "We carry onwards."

Altaïr glared from his spot on the grass because he was quite comfortable in the shade where he wouldn't bake and although the fate of the world rested on his shoulders. . .he _really_ wanted five more minutes. Malik had never seen his friend reluctant to move from a spot but the heat they'd endured caused him to immediately cloister himself to the shade. Raising his chin like the majestic proud eagle that he was, he closed his eyes to exhale softly but clearly, "I'm leader, _I _get to say it."

Malik won the battle of wits by fishing out his wad of handwritten coupons from a pocket hidden within the inside lining of his robe, waving the papers like a prize, and smugly declared, "I have a coupon."

"Go right on ahead then" the grand master allowed immediately to grant his friend complete control of their travel, yawning with the laziness of a lion as he stood up on his reluctant legs. They'd been enjoying their tranquil rest but duty called and it was a beacon they couldn't ignore at any cost. He didn't have doubts about putting Malik in charge during an important mission since he'd been the first of his brothers that tried to screw his head back into its rightful place back in Solomon's Temple so he knew his friend wouldn't lead him astray. On the other hand, if Vivian were holding that coupon, Altaïr would've ripped it in half before he let her lead them _anywhere_. She'd more than likely send them crashing into a ditch simply out of curiosity's sake.

"So, what are our ideas in the pool to begin this search?" Malik began optimistically to summon pep out of the lethargic duo because they would need energy to investigate their entry into the pyramids. Vivian quickly rubbed away any spit lingering on the corner of her lips before she appeared more unkempt and brushed back her hair (which sorely needed brushing) with hasty fingers. Altaïr didn't need any help in the looks department since he dominated the 'ruggedly handsome' style without even trying, shaking his head to her shabby appearance. She merely stuck out her tongue since touching him in public would have all eyes on her and shuffled her feet over the dirt because no, she wasn't pleasing to the eye at all times- those were Sue characteristics. Hmm, had Ubisoft somehow given him a tiny dash of Gary Stu-ness? No, she wouldn't dare think of it!

Prying herself out of her fangirl thoughts, she threw her mind into the discussion and chucked out her ideas with a lively smile, "We need a guide. . .someone who knows every level of this pyramid, someone who's in their prime and smart but not physically able to defeat us if they backstab us-"

"We'll be here forever at that rate" Altaïr snorted to her pickiness but privately, agreed wholeheartedly to those traits because criminals lurked everywhere nowadays. War always brought the worst and the best in people; unfortunately, they lured in the former for his team in droves. Vivian had briefly told him a descendant would one day use guilds of other professions to provide distractions against enemies or assassination targets and he almost blacked out into mortified unconsciousness when she said harlots. Altaïr, however, didn't see the need of it at this particular moment in time. Assassins worked in the shadows as one or with the brotherhood, nobody else; they could not dare to risk themselves. He had already exposed his identity and trust with Maria, an ex-Templar, and would not reach further out yet.

That mindset brought his attention over to Vivian, who was counting off her fingers in the most uneducated manner possible, and realized with dismay, _Yet again, look at me. I don't. . .I really want to know what manner of creature sent her here. I truly thought she was a foe but now that I see I was wrong, should I be worried for the mayhem she brings with her 'helpful' friendship? The ways of the future folk are not for me._

"I know, I'll get into a scuffle and see what kind citizen tries to help" she piped up eagerly since rubbing dirt all over herself to play the peasant role would be perfect. On the other hand, she could play an innocent tourist that was 'accidentally' being hassled by a Templar. Her crafty personas were quickly piling in her mind and couldn't believe the excitement that ran through her bloodstream for undergoing the act. Were the standards of living and rough survival of the 1190s finally pushing her to what she would do to see another day? She didn't really know but either way, she was ready to lend her hand for the assassin's cause . . . unfortunately, Altaïr didn't agree to it.

"You'll just draw male attention, we need gender neutrality" Altaïr stated sardonically since any good heart would help a woman in need but they required a skilled person to show them around the city. He wasn't about to endanger a simple civilian (Vivian was already enough) because their mission was dangerous and turned to Malik, the only one who could draw the type of person they needed for this.

"Oh, I'm going to hate this, aren't I?" he groaned miserably since he expected his day to brighten after having to walk all the way to the pyramids. He was more than certain he had a callous forming in the back of his left foot since he'd worn simple leather shoes for walking, not reinforced boots. His shoulders slumped comically since Altaïr's ideas always brought a fight of some sort, preferring Vivian's crafty nonviolent ways, and sighed dejectedly, "So much for my leadership coupon."

It didn't take long for them to pinpoint a Templar wandering the outskirts that were littered with shop stands selling food or souvenirs for travelers and Altaïr had deemed it the perfect site to strike. Within minutes, a small huddling hobo dressed in brown garbs bumped into the enemy, his face concealed by a hood as they used a familiar walking stick for the feeble touch. Plus, having no arm gave Malik a lot of sympathy points as he hobbled around innocently. Vivian had to restrain Altaïr from diving in to help the 'innocent civilian' when Malik was rudely shoved to the ground by their enemy as the Templar let loose a few words not fit for children's ears. . .or maybe they were, children were considered 'adult' worthy pretty young in the past. Either way, both observers disliked the man's callous attitude immediately since it could've been an accidentally bump of the shoulder or a blind man simply walking through.

"We have to bear it, this is for the mission" Vivian justified quietly since her own heart was thrown into a blender, hating to see her friend on the ground like that. The fact that they were hiding behind a bunch of crates to keep out of sight made the two feel guiltier with cowardice for not being able to lend a hand. Altaïr was more than ready to jump in there to protect his teammate but Vivian held him back by standing in front of him, blocking his path as she placed both palms on his chest to keep him at bay. It wasn't easy with her petite frame but she managed to keep the six foot tall assassin in his spot. Hmm, maybe all of her canoe rowing was finally coming in handy.

"It reminds me of how I failed my order, Malik and Kadar, during that night in the temple" he admitted faintly as he'd shoved the events of that ill-fated night into the dark crevices of his mind and her fingers softened their grip on his tunic, the faint thump of his heartbeat beating against her hand. Malik had forgiven him quite a while ago but Altaïr carried those scars to remind himself to never allow the same event to unravel again and here he was allowing his friend to be beaten by a Templar. His brown eyes narrowed to the scene before him and he stated stiffly with disgust to his past, "I left them alone to bear the wrath of the Templars-"

"This is entirely different, we are here to protect him if anything happens" she interjected swiftly to point out he wasn't the same person anymore because the old Altaïr wouldn't have hesitated to kill her when they met. He'd killed that poor old man at the start of the game, right, so what chance would she have had? She liked and approved of the man standing before her . . . sure, he was still grumpy but he wasn't foaming at the mouth and looking to kill just about anything.

Malik took another onslaught of crude words as they waited for somebody helpful to pop out from within the crowd but when everyone parted to scuttle away in fear, Vivian was almost tempted to agree when Altaïr questioned with a sharp hiss, "_Now_ can I kill him?"

A few seconds longer and she released the stealthy beast from its imprisoned cage, quietly blending back into the wandering crowd to keep an eye on things as Altaïr quietly made his way behind the Templar. His hidden blade glinted in the sunlight as he unsheathed it, ready to plunge it into one of his enemy's vital points to extinguish their life since hassling civilians was a cowardly act. When he was ready to dash at the Templar for a surprise attack from behind that would grant a direct strike to the center of the spine, a cloud of gray dust engulfed the area and clouded his vision. Altaïr coughed immediately to clear his lungs free of the bothersome powder and see through the gray veil as the device was rather ingenious but he kept his guard up in case somebody decided to knife him instead. For all he knew, the Templars could've been laying their own trap for him since he'd killed a few of their members yesterday. He heard a metal thud near his vicinity and Vivian's voice called his name but Altaïr was lost in a dimension all on his own until the view gradually cleared.

He found himself alone in the area and saw that the Templar had been knocked unconscious a few feet away but Malik was no longer there, an empty space filling where he'd previously been. Vivian decided to play the town herald to draw attention away from him to aid his escape and took a page out right out of the game. She pointed to their unconscious enemy as she made her way to the front of the gathering crowd, kicking dust in the man's direction as an extra perk (he'd hurt her friend, after all) and exclaimed to play on their heartstrings, "You see? These foreigners are not here for anything but the destruction of our people and seek to send Egypt into disarray. How can you let them abuse one of our own? Have we no pride as a people?"

She pressed a closed fist against her heart and shouted to the murmuring crowd with firmness, "We are Giza! Our people ruled this entire continent for centuries from invaders as exhaled pharaohs and continue to do so but these fiends infiltrate our lands! Cast them out, exile them, protect the people from their cruel abuse!"

With that said, she scampered off to hide behind a nearby palm tree because she didn't want anyone kicking her out of the pyramid site for trying to incite a crowd or for a hidden Templar to throw a knife into her heart. Altaïr followed after his partner without being seen as he blended into the crowd to disappear from sight since he'd been in the middle of an interesting scene. Reaching her side, she grasped the front of his robes with a swift grip when he was a foot away and hissed worriedly, "We lost Malik! This was a stupid idea-"

"Somebody helped and Malik can take care of himself" Altaïr interjected in reminder to what just occurred, remaining optimistic in the plan since it succeeded brilliantly. If Malik had inspired help, then maybe this crafty individual was capable of helping them in their task- without being privy to their business, of course. Vivian's fingers slowly unclenched from the front of his robes as his reasoning made logical sense because Malik could kick ass better than she could, all while missing an arm. Yes, her friend _would_ be fine until they found him and she'd keep him in her sights to maintain that safety afterwards. She tried to keep that thought on a repeat cycle in her head as Altaïr deliberated their next set of orders, "But we'll go look if he's not back in ten. . .no, five. . .let's go."

Vivian smiled at knowing she wasn't the only one with worry.

They returned to the scene of the crime as innocent onlookers and Altaïr kneeled down on the ground to observe the set of footprints imprinted in the dirt from both Malik and the unknown rescuer. Vivian merely feigned smoothing out the skirt of her gray robes while he pretended to tie a loose lace from his boots but scanned the loose earth for any clues. She glanced eagerly with intrigue once the touring crowds thinned out because having the 12th century Aragorn in front of her almost had her hopping on each foot with excitement. What would he discover? What was his approach for finding clues? How had he learned such training? The researching historian inside of her was bursting with curiosity for those answers. She almost sighed wistfully for not being hurled into the land of handsome courageous men to learn the way of the rangers but it was better to deal with coldblooded Templars rather than an evil overlord plaguing the land. The wait wasn't long as he pieced together their path by the faint footprints and other strewn clues, informing Vivian with relief in his voice, "I found a trail."

"Damn, you're awesome" she sighed adoringly with glittering eyes fit for any fangirl as she watched him stand gracefully, his robes fluttering silently against the gentle breeze of the late morning. There were a few slips in her friendly façade when the assassin accomplished a goal that she couldn't even dream of attempting, especially when it didn't include life threatening danger.

He turned around with a bewildered face to her accidental slip of the tongue, his brow furrowing with confusion as he asked, "What?"

"Nothing!," she blurted nervously with a squeak to almost being caught in the middle of her aweing and flicked her fingers everywhere to motion where their new route was. Having him figure out that she admired him a little too much might cause a wedge of awkwardness between them and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. After all, it had taken forever to even nab a little bit of his trust and she was clinging to that like a fat dragon with its hoard of treasure. The apples of her cheeks tinted a rosy color as she tried to avoid his piercing honey gaze and asked hastily to get moving, "So, uh, where do we go?"

Altaïr took off like a bullet as he followed the footprints he'd outline over the dirt, switching to his eagle vision in case Malik was nearby as his special trait helped tremendously in tracking. Vivian followed closely to make sure she didn't lose sight of him because his stealth could leave anyone scratching their head and kept him blended within crowds as they searched for their lost friend. Of course, the assassin's hastiness cast the slow walk to the wind and he began a fast pace that was a step short of free running. Camouflage was mandatory now that they were in the middle of a Templar infested area and she quickly caught up to Altaïr to grasp his forearm and halt his manic run, hissing softly in reminder, "You're going to draw attention by defying the normal running speed of 1 mph in this city."

With that said, she pulled him into a dark space between two stands of business and opened her one of her packs to pull out a large piece of brown fabric that she'd purchased yesterday with Malik. She'd been saving it to alter Altaïr's robes when they had spare time but for now, she stuffed the fabric under her robes to create her fake pregnancy belly. When in doubt, fake a pregnancy; it was a good motto in that turbulent era. She pulled out a brown linen sash also, one she'd created from her old torn robes, and tied it around her hips to finish the look. Altaïr resisted from shaking his head to her crafty ingenuity and she patted the plump lump over her stomach with a wild grin full of mischief, "Fear not, Childbearing Vivian will clear the road for you. Just tell everyone I'm having labor pains and they'll leave us alone, nobody wants to see a woman give birth in public in this era. If someone does try to help, we'll say we have a wagon waiting for us across the way and that's why we're running."

He looped his right arm through hers to play the 'awaiting parents' ploy and ran into the open roads to clear the way.

* * *

"This way, they must be close by the looks of this solitary area" Altaïr informed quickly as he pulled his companion along but poor Vivian was out of breath because the man could be a track runner at this point. There was absolutely no way a modern human of her time that didn't practice sports could keep up with the man and cursed any fictional Sues that dared to. If she really were pregnant, that baby would've popped into the world from the sheer force he exuded in his runs.

"I. . .give me a minute. . .five minutes" she panted breathlessly as she clung to any objects to keep herself upright as her legs ached and a cramp had wedged itself into her left side. There was absolutely no way that the assassin life would be for her when she couldn't parkour like a maniac.

The two wandering companions had found themselves in an abandoned area in the outskirts where abandoned wooden stalls were empty and void of life, torn cloths flailing in the wind as they walked by. Vivian kept an eye out because it looked like something straight out of a suspense film but Altaïr's constant tugging on her sleeve kept distracting her observations. There went her dreams of being a scout and traveling the land with the skills of Legolas.

Altaïr halted immediately behind one of the wooden stalls, pushing Vivian against the wall as he entered the empty store to conceal their presence. He'd heard feet pacing within feet of them and knew that no other footsteps had entered the area so it had to contain Malik within. Vivian fought the instinct to thrash for freedom since his arm incapacitated her with its strength alone, pinning her in place from making any sound or breathing loudly. Willfully obeying, she stayed put in her spot with a frown as she watched Altaïr peek over the corner of the stall to peer into the space ahead of them.

"I can hear you so it would be best to show yourselves" a calm male voice spoke aloud, causing the two to flinch in surprise because they wanted to be the ones to catch the other off-guard. The two companions eyed each other for consensus on whether to stay or abandon their spot since they hadn't thought ahead past their 'get to Malik' plan. Vivian looked to Altaïr for any bright ideas since their element of surprise was gone and the smooth voice spoke through the empty area once more, "If you are here for the man as a friend, I bring no harm. If you are a foe, unsheathe your weapon."

Vivian quickly prodded his shoulder because she didn't want to be sliced into deli meat portions and whispered in his left ear, "Don't brandish your silverware."

"You expect me to trust a stranger?" Altaïr questioned shrewdly to the unfathomable idea of surrendering but then again, Malik's life could be in danger. He wasn't about to trust the words of an unknown man but couldn't dare to risk a repeat of Solomon's temple. This was a conundrum that was testing his will because either choice could go wrong for them.

Vivian decided to pull the decision from his hands by risking herself for both of them, slowly walking into the open dusty road in the hopes of seeing who spoke to them. There were two stalls on either side of them as the path headed in a one-way direction to the front where a limestone building lay abandoned, its decaying structure reminding her of an old ghost town. Ironically, the booming tourist attraction was ten minutes away on foot.

"I'm here for my friend, I don't mean any harm nor am I looking for it" she called out hesitantly as she stepped forward towards the speaker, leaving Altaïr to remain concealed behind the wooden stall if anything did occur. Her head darted in all directions in the hopes of finding Malik or any enemies that decided to spring onto her.

She smiled widely when she spotted her friend exit an open doorway that led into the broken building, his disguise cast aside for his clean navy robes. He appeared perfectly well without visible injuries but her smile faltered when she spotted an olive toned man beside him, dressed in slate gray clothing fit for the lower caste of society as he sported shaggy black hair that screamed modern bedhead hair. Hmm, she didn't stand a chance against anyone really but she'd definitely need backup if he turned hostile. Meekly, she raised her hand to wave it peacefully in welcome as she pushed down her nerves and piped up innocently, "Greetings."

"By the way she walks, I can already tell she's harmless" the unknown man commented with an amused smirk and Vivian sighed morosely because there was absolutely nothing intimidating about her that would have enemies scratching their heads. A mouse fared better than her at striking fear into people. She might just consider altering her appearance to look more intimidating to hand extra advantage points to her friends because her friendly disposition brought nothing. Since the man deemed her inferior as an enemy, she strode forward to meet her friend to redeem all of her 'innocent damsel' points but the stranger quickly added in, "Tell your friend to step out as well."

"It's all right, Altaïr, we actually found ourselves a nice leader in a thieves guild" Malik piped up encouragingly but that only led Altaïr to slapping his own right cheek in sheer disbelief. For a brief second, a little nausea stirred in the bowels of his stomach also. A thief? Malik had been saved by a good for nothing parasite of society? He had half a mind to-

"Are you a good 'help the people', a neutral 'I do the least damage to get by', or a bad 'let's steal from everybody' thief?" Vivian asked suspiciously because she'd seen enough film and games to know witty and honor bound thieves were the best. She tapped her left foot over the dusty path to show she required an answer from the man because he wasn't going to be the only one calling the shots, buying Altaïr extra time to determine whether they were facing a neutral individual or enemy. Her out-of-era personality did wonders at granting time as she rambled curiously, "Because I've had quite the kleptomaniac hands recently but I only take from those who deserve it, like people that try to kill me. That doesn't make me a thief in the bad person sense, does it? I mean, I-"

"Why did you bring him out here?" Altair's voice interrupted Vivian's ramblings and she expected that he'd take advantage of the time to sneak up behind the stranger to knock him unconscious. . .but no. For the first time since her arrival in the past, she had the sudden urge to sigh in exasperated disbelief to his actions rather than ogle. Her admired assassin had decided to clamber on top of one of the wooden stalls, completely casting aside any chance of concealment as an assassin, and pointed his deadly crossbow at the man's chest. Sure, his bravery was a sight to behold but also. . .

"Would you get down from there, Rambo? That shabby roof could give way at any second!" she chastised worriedly because he'd apparently forgone safety over his rescue mission, clenching her hands anxiously with each passing second he remained there. He didn't take his eyes away from the thief but hopped off the wooden stand with graceful footing that neither three held and took his position next to her to show he wasn't someone to trifle with. Vivian wasn't ready to be part of a Mexican standoff where Malik was the prize to be won and calmly tried to dissuade any actions that would result with a death, "We thank you for rescuing our friend and I assure you we mean no harm-"

Pausing instantly, she flicked her thumb towards Altaïr to add in with an impish smile, "Well, _I_ mean no harm but he's a little harder to persuade."

With his finesse to diffuse a tense situation, Malik bravely stood between the two men to halt any quarreling and stated calmly, "Everything is perfectly fine, I believe a little miscommunication can cause a downfall in seconds so I'm here to say that there are no hidden enemies. We are just three travelers tracking down our common enemy, the Templars."

"Malik!" Vivian cheered gratefully as he'd slowly walked closer to them and ran to her comrade for a reuniting embrace because she'd certainly missed him for the short time he'd been gone. He was no longer the NPC in the game that she'd wanted to spend more time with and had found herself a true friend in the middle of the chaos brought on by their enemies. She'd never been emotional in public with either of her companions and immediately drew looks from all of them as she held the dai. It's not like she could banish the worry with a single thought and eyed all of them sheepishly as she justified her action, "This is totally platonic, he's my best friend here. I come from a land where we like to hug. . .a _lot_. . .it's even in our motto: 'welcome with a hug'."

All three men had to blink at her peppy declaration at that point, especially when she disentangled herself from Malik and opened her arms to emphasize the motto. Quite frankly, her inner fangirl hoped Altaïr would partake in her farce but when nobody stepped forward, her arms returned down at her sides empty-handed. Altaïr quickly crafted an excuse for her benignly strange behavior because covering up her origins was a hassle in itself and uttered airily without a care, "She was left out to stare at the sun for an hour when she was a small child of five, she wasn't very bright to begin with. Obviously, it had a very bad effect on her cognitive skills."

Vivian raised her chin in feigned defiance to his insane claim because he could've used a speech impediment excuse and added her own jib to keep their playful verbal spats between them, "Sometimes I think it's the other way around."

"Who are you?" Altaïr demanded of the hooded man that had taken away (or rescued, in Vivian's mind) their friend, cutting off the side chatter to regain control of the situation. He might have lent Malik a helping hand but being a thief, he could've been waiting to rob him afterwards by isolating him from the open crowds. As an assassin, he carried himself with a strict honor code and individuals that veered off a humble civilian path weren't seen very well in his eyes. He was fighting for humankind to remain free but if they were being deceitful and unfair to each other, what would it be worth?

"Well, I expected to save an innocent civilian, not a man in masquerade" the Egyptian explained simply, crossing his arms to give Malik a disapproving eye since he usually gave aid to those who were unable to protect themselves. The dai innocently pointed to his missing left arm to score valuable points for his feeble outlook, causing the man to shake his head but a faint smile appeared on his lips. Malik could trick just about anybody that he was innocent with the lack of a limb but looks were incredibly deceiving. Looking at each of them to show he meant no harm, the man touched the center of his chest with his right dust covered hand and introduced himself, "I am Amon, no last name for, uh, safety purposes."

Vivian eyed his outfit that lacked any billowing robes of most Egyptian civilians, taking a fancy with the hood poking out from underneath his brown leather vest because one thing she liked about this era was the versatility of hoods. She couldn't wear one publicly in her era without drawing a strange eye for appearing like a Jedi among common people and not in a sci-fi convention where it belonged. It was a reason why she'd been drawn to the game franchise because Altaïr definitely held the allure of mystery since his debut. She stood in front of him to make sure he wouldn't break the small moment of cease fire that Malik had enacted and complimented amicably with a smile, "Ooh, I like his garb. He's like Legolas with a hood."

"Um, thank you?" the man replied uncertainly as he'd caught the approval in the first sentence and began to believe the man in white's statement about her intelligence being horribly altered by the sun. Vivian smiled next to Malik with a carefree flair but a single heated glare from Altaïr smoothed her expression into a small frown, crushing her little ray of curiosity. Standing in front of his imposing form didn't help to broker peace when he was practically torching people with his glare power alone and she placed a steady hand on his right arm (his main limb for offensive attacking) to reassure him that nothing would go wrong. After all, they were main enemies with the Templars only- not each other- and the guy _had_ rescued poor Malik.

Altaïr wasn't prone to trusting anyone within a month, much less minutes, and she felt the extensor muscles of his forearm grow stiff in protest to being subdued. Amon could see the man in charge of the group was anything but friendly, despite his calming hue of cloth, and explained his actions calmly, "I have been protecting citizens from these newcomers since their arrival as our lands have grown tense since the upstart of the holy war up north. We have been free of enemies so far but these specific foreigners have a foul air about them, using authority to hide their intentions, and I have been keeping an eye on them as they treat us with a superior air. I may be a man that is frowned upon by the elite of society but I don't appreciate risking my life for foreigners playing the part of martyrs. Other than that, you may call me a friendly riffraff of the streets."

"Ooh, I like it" Vivian piped up by mouthing an 'o' of intrigue as the nostalgia of RPG games hit her with a full blast since she had an affinity for looting every crevice in a field. She was always pushing her character to search every little cranny while her NPC team members killed the enemies. It wasn't a very leader-like quality for the meticulous Vivian but then again, she wasn't made to be a leader and offered support whenever she happened to be online with friends.

"Vivian, the adults are talking" Altaïr silenced her curious mind because she'd trust anything with pleading eyes and she crossed her arms huffily for being shoved aside like a bothersome tumbleweed. Again, she couldn't really contradict her leader because his life experience shaped his logical decisions while she was driven by emotions that weren't needed in an era fit for survival only. It really was hard adjusting to a time where a woman was meant to be seen and not heard in public but thanked Altaïr's kind graces that in private, he allowed her those rare freedoms. She stepped aside to grant him access to speaking directly with the man, moving behind her two companions to gauge the situation on her own. If she caught anything shifty, she could let him know by coughing innocently and sharpened her hearing when Altaïr began to question Amon with a calculating tone, "How long have these men in gray been within the city? They only have their own interest at heart at the expense of others and we've been tracking them for weeks to end it before they can spread further across the continent."

"And you would not?" the man asked suspiciously as he eyed the trio, aware that he was outnumbered if they wanted to fight and wanted his own questions answered on who they were. He'd offered aid without expecting anything in return and didn't appreciate being roped into a trap where he knew nothing of the conspirators. His rescue of the Arabic man had yielded a small conversation about the men inhabiting the city and although neither were a fan of theirs, Amon wasn't going to sympathize with even more troublemakers to his city. Raising his square chin to show his defiance to Altaïr's interrogation, he set forth his own inquisition because this was _his_ city and stated simply, "After all, you've yet to tell me who you are and why you're in my city- not to mention the fact you were holding a crossbow at my heart not five minutes ago."

"He does that a lot, he brandished a knife and threw me in a secret lair when we met" Vivian sympathized with a small smile to keep the situation calm since her personal experiences could cause either humorous laughter or unsettling gazes to the events in her young life. For the first days, she'd had a hard time believing she was stuck alongside the grumpy Altaïr but it was better than the alternatives of being left on her own or locked in an abysmal dungeon in Masyaf. Amon caught her gaze as she stuck behind the impassive Altaïr, taking notice that the two weren't antagonistic towards each other in body language despite their subtle barrage of snarky words. The fact that she held English features to contrast his Arabic characteristics spoke volumes as their lands fought a holy war, especially when she added in with a proud toothy grin, "Then again, I did bite him pretty good."

"I don't offer my name freely" Altaïr stated frigidly since he wouldn't negotiate with a riffraff for information, even if he was the foreigner in the land of the pharaohs. He'd traveled a long way to bring an end to his enemies and piece together the truth behind the pieces of Eden, enduring the harsh elements and injuries of battle since leaving Masyaf for that life changing quest in 1190. He'd already extended his hand to Vivian for aid as she kept proving herself but he wouldn't be handing out his trust to every random person that he met.

Vivian broke the social standard once more to answer the man's question by pointing to Altaïr and stating chirpily, "He's Hannibal, I'm Murdock, and he's Face."

"Those names are too strange to be believable" Amon stated dryly with an amused smile at her attempt to be mischievous as it reminded him of the younger thieves in his guild. Vivian snapped her fingers with disappointment for failing to convince him since the names would've stirred laughter in her time but alas, the 1190s were not ready for the A-Team reference. His gaze shifted between the two assassins because being killed in a desolate area where his allies were unreachable was not an ideal fight or a decent way to die. Either way, he would hold his ground like a man and declared simply to finish whatever charade the two had initiated, "If you plan on killing me, my friends will find you."

"We simply seek information about this place and those men, no harm will befall you" Malik spoke truthfully as he took up the calm and charismatic position in the group, smiling when Vivian waved her small paper booklet containing information. She'd been in charge of jotting down anything that piqued her interest as well as adding in history facts to help their search. The pieces of Eden held mysterious powers and neither Malik nor Vivian wanted to see Altaïr laughing maniacally like the old witch queen from Snow White with her poisonous apple. She flipped through her handmade papyrus booklet, neatly turning the pages that she'd cut holes into with a blade to attach leather bindings that held it together and showed them her little sketch of the pyramids. Altair sighed dismally to her childish attempt to woo favor but Amon believed the young woman meant no harm, cemented by the disappointed frown on her colleague's face.

Malik utilized Vivian's helpfulness by carefully explaining their motive for being there, "The men in the city will destroy anything in their way to achieve their goal, we've been chasing them for the last month and fighting them for years in our own lands. We are here to stop them before they spread south and although we lack the numbers to attack directly, we use the shadows to conceal our presence. We were hoping to draw a civilian to help us with information since we're in a new land and they are moving faster than we can catch them."

"And what is it that _you_ seek here?" he asked carefully since he wasn't going to throw all of his eggs in one basket immediately because this group could be worse than the first. He wanted his city purged of the men as they offended the lower classes and infiltrated the top caste by using their authority to remain there with their secret goals. Two of his men had already been taken by the authorities, his guild pinpointed over their rivals, who had conveniently sided with the foreigners in exchange for money. Amon might be a thief after being abandoned by his family but he wouldn't give up his dignity, or his city, to foreigners for a mere coin.

"To destroy their forces before they move to their goal because a victory for them will bring ruin to us all as they silently gain power" Altaïr stated grimly because there was a lot at stake, not just for their group, but the entire world in the long run. If the future was at a heavy disadvantage against the Templars, they had to find a way to tip the balance within the past in the favor of the assassins or their chances would keep decreasing.

Amon appeared unconvinced by their plight and Vivian blamed it on the lack of emotional outpour on Altaïr's part since the man was too macho to shed tears or pout. This moment required emotional inspiration to warrant a helpful hand but Altaïr was clear-cut and no nonsense man that headed straight to the point without a change in façade. Amon narrowed his brown eyes at three, faltering slightly when Vivian waved her handy sketch book with a pyramid on it, and asked coolly, "And why should I trust you with information when you don't tell me your names?"

Altaïr wasn't budging on revealing anything about himself so Vivian decided to use her civilian status (and that emotional inspiration) to help bridge a chance at coexistence, "I'm Vivian and we need to find Khufu's pyramid that has the sole attention of these men who call themselves Templars and all they want is to enslave people to rule over them. They bring nothing but blight upon those who stand in the way of their goals as they conceal their identities and so far, we're the only ones that secretly fight them. I can't fight my way out of a sack but these two have kept me safe after I found myself stranded away from home; I owe them my life, little as it is. Please, if you could just point us in the right direction, we'll be grateful."

Quickly, she added in with a request that every historian or archaeologist wanted fulfilled on their first trip to Giza, "And a recommendation for a city guide would be nice, we've never been to Egypt."

"What she said" Altaïr muttered flatly since she made the better conversationalist while he caused most altercations with his direct manners. If he had it his way, he would've had the thief pinned against the wall while brandishing a hidden blade against his neck with the threat of death in exchange for answers. Apparently, his colleagues didn't agree and they were going at a snail's pace with this to torment him.

The thief was quiet for a moment as he mulled over her words since he believed her more than the other two, her behavior fit for a curious child, and he admitted with a low tone, "A rival group has been cooperating with them and several members of mine have gone missing during scouting. The district of the poor has only increased with violence as they coexist and although most officials don't take much notice on our poor districts, our eyes are watchful to the changes. The Raj thieves are being paid to keep authorities occupied and trouble visitors near the pyramid, framing our group whenever we try to intervene so we take the fall."

"That is what usually occurs, they infiltrate and bribe authorities to look the other way as they slowly gain control of a city" Malik explained grimly and the thief winced to the idea of a worse city for the poor that were already suffering. The dai could always play into people's emotions as civilians carried them on their sleeve during times of war and similar circumstances usually brought sympathy from both sides. The man was quite amicable after he rescued him from the Templar, given advice on how not to grab their attention again, and Malik wanted to help the poor people as he spoke truthfully, "That is what happened in our nearest cities and others around us. They served high military positions or high elite status as they controlled what they wanted civilians to see, working undercover to further their goals without alerting anybody else. We caught onto their plans, as we always have, and have been labeled enemies in public while they roam free to do as they wish. I can already see that it has begun to happen here and soon, you and any other opposition will start being eliminated."

Vivian nodded quietly since everybody looked pretty dreary and acted grouchy or nervous during her playthrough in the game. She'd been chased over rooftops by guards during her first day in Jerusalem just for wearing assassin garb (what happened to poor souls that just happened to have similar robes?) and her first encounter with Templars showed her how deadly they were.

"If you can make them leave my city, I will help" he agreed quietly with great reluctance and hoped he hadn't just made a deal with the devil to free his people from the silent oppression. Also, keep his life by the end of that compromise. The man in dark robes and 'Vivian' seemed benevolent enough with their demeanors but the man in white was anything except silent and broody. He pointed to each of them with emphasis to the trust he was placing with them since he'd only known them for a few minutes and stated firmly, "Do _not_ make me regret this."

"We won't" Malik assured pleasantly since they sorely needed an ally somewhere in the city that wouldn't lead them straight into Templar forces. Their main objective was reaching the inside of the pyramid however they could and since the ancient Egyptians decided to use one simultaneous entrance and exit, it was their only route. Thieves were notorious for finding their way out of a bind and finding a way in or out of places, leading him to ask smoothly with an amicable tone, "All we need is an entry into the pyramid and where they are stationed at to eliminate their forces. Hopefully, by removing this group, others will decide to head elsewhere because infiltrating Africa is their plan."

Vivian hopped to peek at the thief over Altaïr's left shoulder (he really was taller than she'd originally expected), her head bobbing up and down as she threatened quickly, "But if you try anything funny, he'll drive a knife through you."

The man smirked at her attempt to frighten him as her petite form tried to bypass Altaïr's in the most comedic way possible and he commented with amusement, "Cute."

"She wasn't joking" the assassin merely replied as he kept humor out of conversations, yanking Vivian by the left sleeve of her robe to settle her juvenile jumping and heard a disappointed groan from behind. It's what sidekicks did to potential bad guys in the media to show who was boss but apparently, she sucked at that too.

Malik motioned for Altaïr to zip his mouth shut before they were chased out of town by the thief's guild and approached Amon to familiarize himself. His calm and soft-spoken tone put most people at ease as he nabbed their trust within the hour, hoping to acquire the same from the thief with his trained skills. Altaïr and Vivian lingered behind as they allowed him to do most of the talking, keeping within earshot of the two as Malik asked carefully for input, "What would be the best course of action?"

"Attack after sundown, less civilians and more enemy casualties" Amon answered easily as he'd tracked their movements throughout the city since they first showed their true colors with their behavior. They might try to act like true Egyptians or those under the rule of Saladin but he could see they weren't of their lands in the way they ate and lacked knowledge of local customs. Amon took the lead as he left the dilapidating building to venture into the ghost town of empty stalls and motioned for the trio to follow him with a simple wave of the hand, "Come, I will lead you to our safe house to discuss a plan of action."

"Ooh, a hidden lair" Vivian chuckled eagerly and clapped her hands together at the idea of venturing like a character straight out of a fantasy game. Her mind itched with a historian's curiosity to what secrets laid within such safe houses of the past and instantly tagged along for a new adventure to satiate her mind.

Altaïr quickly yanked her back to his side before she could wander off with the man, keeping a careful eye on the gullible Vivian since she held a tendency to fall prey to people with ill intents. She had a kind heart that belonged in the future but in his time, could lead her straight into death. He needed to teach her right from wrong when it came to conversations like this relating to trust on a two-way street, keeping her safely behind him and questioned the thief skeptically with a sardonic tone, "Do you really expect me to follow you to a place where you'll be at full strength?"

"I can already tell you're not a very nice houseguest" Amon remarked dryly about the man's standoffish attitude as the petite woman peeked out at them from behind with curiosity and shook his head. He wasn't avid about taking them to the heart of his guild either because they could lash out and cause instant death for both parties but he wanted the other group out of the city. He looked to Malik since he was the most sensible- and probably the smartest- and advised him carefully about the offer on the table, "That is your only option if you seek help, we know the in's and out's out of almost anyplace here- except the administration buildings, that's suicide. The wait will be quite a while and the sun is rather hot today since the season of this year decided to bear extra warmth. Besides, you don't look like regular folk of the city with those heavy packs in hand and will catch their eye soon enough as most travelers stay within the city."

"See? We'll be fine" Vivian encouraged perkily with a bright smile and slapped Altaïr on the back to move his stubborn feet, keeping the smile plastered on her face to sway him. Sometimes, he just wanted to shake her upside down by the feet to knock some sense into her brain. Once they left Giza and ventured south, given that they didn't die before then, he'd begin instruction about his society and how not to make foolish mistakes- she kept exceeding her current record. She clapped him on the right shoulder to encourage him, her upbeat voice surprising him when she stated knowingly with a sneaky smile, "Besides, you'll kill them in five minutes flat if they try- I've seen you do worse, remember?"

She tapped her nose to remind him about all of the adventures she'd witnessed during the game as he'd beaten the innumerable odds- especially that gruelingly annoying Robert De Sable fight. Altaïr, however, had absolutely no idea what she was doing as she'd failed to inform him what that meant and sighed under his breath to the miserable day he was enduring. Well, every assassin bore obstacles to strengthen their mind and body past normal limitations, right? Vivian would be his greatest one yet.

* * *

"So this is your hideout?" Altaïr commented placidly with a critical eye since the dim lighting and small spaces didn't make him feel very comfortable. If anything, they poked at the locked door in his mind that had sealed away any form of claustrophobia. He and the others had been led inside an empty stall near the old building and just as Altaïr had been ready to declare 'ambush' for the ruse, Amon had quietly opened a hidden door that led underneath by pushing a false stone on the ground. It had earned him a heated glare from both companions as he was more than ready to declare the thief a criminal but followed him below ground to travel down the staircase. They had walked through a long corridor as glass lanterns filled carved square spaces in the wall to provide lighting and he sniffed the air for any lingering smoke traces to comment coolly, "It's not very good for air filtration, is it?"

Vivian nudged him in the ribs with her elbow since he wasn't being a very nice guest, given that he could kill them at any moment, and he grunted with annoyance to her sudden strike. When had she decided to become daring in public? Amon merely kept walking down the corridor, his shadow dancing along the lit walls as he moved quietly but the sarcasm in his voice betrayed the steady tone, "I take it you live in a large fortress that beckons your enemies with its eyesore of a target?"

Vivian blinked rapidly in the dim passageway as each step picked up dust from the floor, keeping her eyes fixated on it since random wooden crates or barrels popped out from within the dark as they walked. She didn't want to sprain her foot worse than it already was since long distance travel without a car was entirely new to her despite the weeks and needed to maintain her only set of legs in good condition. The dark underground passage was a stark contrast to the bright and crowded surface above them, leading her to state with awe, "Wow, you hit the nail right on the board with-"

Altaïr covered her mouth to silence her opinions before she gave away any vital information, squeezing her tightly against his chest to quiet her muffled rambles as she huffed against his hand. His constricting hold caused her to squeak in defeat, loosening his grasp when she went completely lax in his arms and hoped he hadn't accidentally crushed her with his strength. In actuality, Vivian was undergoing a fan moment because he'd yet to actually attempt squeezing her into submission and could've sworn she heard hallelujah choirs for actually being in those deadly arms- even if he _was_ trying to silence her. He shook her slightly to revitalize strength in her body and she smiled dopily with ecstatic glee, leaning against him to savor the fan moment which instantly told him that she was perfectly fine. He had half a mind to release her instantly and watch her tumble to the ground but seeing as they were in public, merely held onto her as the lively rag doll she was. Maintaining his strict demeanor, he kept Vivian's mouth shut and thinned his lips to retort against the jab at his home, "Where we live remains a secret but know that we are not from this land and mean no harm."

"So your hand around the young woman's mouth is friendly banter?" Amon questioned amusingly to Vivian's silenced form as her eyes were pretty much glued between the Altaïr and Amon, full of sparkling intrigue. Malik sighed as the two were picking on each other again, whether playfully or not, and would have to begin writing the ten rules of orderly conduct for public interactions.

"She thrives on this behavior" Altaïr reasoned flatly to portray themselves as a friendly duo, which they were, but sometimes Vivian made him want to stuff a cloth in her mouth. For once, she decided not to bite his fingers and nodded her head hastily as she piped up gibberish that was muffled by his hand. He stiffened a second afterwards when her arms clung to his left, snuggling against it with a peppy 'mm-hmm!' to prove her point but it just made the poor assassin feel awkward as his dignity was stabbed tenfold. His shoulders squared immediately to her strange affectionate action and he added in with a flat monotonous tone, "Uh. . .she expresses her agreement. Again, the sun has damaged her mind in the oddest of ways; it's why we took her in in the first place."

She bit his fingers lightly to remove his hands because they certainly weren't clean and the rough texture of his fingers scratched her sunburned cheeks. He obliged the woman since he'd almost squeezed the air out of her lungs and she spit out any dust that lingered on her lips, frowning to being muzzled like an uncontrollable yipping dog. She tapped her fingers innocently as she resumed her old spot by his side, lingering between the invisible boundary of protection and being manhandled, and piped up nervously, "Thank you for offering your super-duper hideout to us without killing us first. . .and hopefully, not later."

"You lack subtlety with your words" Altaïr sighed softly to her inability to maintain a reserved nature since most women were meek but Vivian often forgot about correcting her behavior, merely adding an innocent smile to appear touched in the head. He did make up that ridiculous lie about her staring into the sun and he patted her head awkwardly to remove that eccentric smile and suggested slowly, "Have a candy from the bag and read a book while we plan."

"I bet if I was a man, I'd be smack in the middle of your diabolical plotting" she pouted with disillusion at having to impersonate as a bystander again but with her lack of skills, was perfectly all right with that. Juggling with her day packs, she found an open area in the left area of the corridor as it led into an empty room full of wooden crates and a table stacked with papers. Hmm, probably interesting loot that could land her in trouble if she allowed her kleptomaniac hands to wander. She placed her belongings down on the floor as carrying them all the way from where the wagon kicked them off brought an ache to her upper back. She waved her left index finger to remind them she was willing to help in any situation, even if she was a rookie, and added in confidently, "Just remember, I have a stick and carry pocket sand."

Amon watched her scuttle away to find a nice crate to sit on while they would proceed to the next empty room to plan since his people were in the city performing their tasks. His left eyebrow rose as he watched her pat down crates to see which one would be adequate, watching her dust a few with an inquisitive eye, and drawled with a soft disbelieving tone, "She's not a fighter at all, is she?"

"No, but she can make one lose their mind with her perplexing conversations" Altaïr commented blandly to what her futuristic demeanor could do to one's mind, especially his, and wondered how he could wield that power without placing her in danger. He watched her fiddle within one of her packs, her feet wiggling in the air as she shifted her weight forward to seize their bag of bought candy in her right hand. Her lips widened into a grin as she ripped it open to grab one of a yellow color, popping it into her mouth with glee and she caught his lingering gaze. Immediately, her feet seized their lazy kicking while her cheeks darkened as she informed it was made out of sweet honey.

She offered the men candy by showing them the bag but they all declined, leaving her alone in the room as they kept walking further along and she called out, "Will you tell me about your plan later?"

"Don't talk with your mouth open" Altaïr admonished in return to silence her ramblings since he had no idea what to do when somebody choked and was in no mood to test it on that particular day. He could already imagine the frown on her mauve lips to his order and her displeasure caused him to hide his own; she was beginning to humor him.

* * *

When he and Malik returned, they found her sitting up against the wall and completely asleep as drool dribbled down the right side of her chin. It was quite comical to both and Altaïr wished he possessed the art of quick sketching so he could keep that fresh in his mind. Their quiet sniggers stirred the dimensional traveler awake since she'd heeded his advice and didn't trust anything around her, expecting to see an ambush awaiting her. Instead, her blinking eyes focused to catch both of her companions staring at her with amusement riddled on their faces and she yawned softly to ask, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, but wipe the drool off your chin before it becomes a puddle on the floor" Altaïr answered casually as he restrained from smirking, removing his own pack from his shoulders to place it on the crate next to hers. Vivian gasped aloud with embarrassment, wishing desperately for a mirror as she wiped her face clean of any saliva to prevent further mortification. He finally uttered a faint chuckle when he watched her face turn a rosy color, her hands immediately flying to place the hood of the robe over her face. Malik told her it was nothing to worry about since they lived in an embarrassment-free zone with each other but Vivian didn't feel that way with Altaïr due to his 'gaming idol' status. The master assassin scoffed to Malik's assurance and patted the top of Vivian's hooded head to joke playfully, "I wanted to see how many colors she could go through."

"Will you just tell me the plan and whether I should fear for my life?" she asked quickly to change the topic away from her face since she'd been waiting for them to return back from their planning. The wild beating of her heart needed to become steady before she shifted into a red cherry hue because knowing that the assassin was laughing at her appearance was as humorous as it was embarrassing. She'd much rather have fallen down the stairs than endured subconscious drooling.

"A feisty little badger as always, aren't you?" he teased her sour mood with a smug smirk, her huddled form shifting away from his in protest to being prodded with humor. It reminded him of a confused chicken fighting for freedom inside a burlap sack and he clapped her on the back to show no hard feelings, almost sending the woman flying forward with his strength. Malik sighed under his breath when she stumbled off the crate, landing sharply on her butt with a muffled groan and he helped her off the floor while Altaïr mumbled out a quick apology. She rubbed her throbbing tailbone with both hands, her gray hood covering her face from view and he explained carefully, "The less you know, the better. It is for your utmost safety but you need to keep an eye out when we head inside and always stay behind us when danger arises."

Her brow furrowed with disbelief she was being kept in the dark this time, hoping that she wasn't about to walk into the mouth of Hell itself and asked flatly, "What if they surround us in a circle? How will you get me out of that one? Or if I fall into a trap? Or-"

He waved a hand in dismissal since she poked holes into his idea to keep her out of their plan and interrupted swiftly, "Trust me, Vivian. We will keep you safe."

"Fine, if you insist" she muttered reluctantly because being lost to what they had in store for the enemy both confused and worried her. Yes, she trusted both men with her life but unforeseen events could arise that could render their plans useless. What would happen then? There were many variables in place against them as they neared the piece of Eden and she could only wonder if the next locations would contain the same dangerous resistance, leading her to ask quietly, "So we're trusting Amon? Did you scan him with your eagle vision to verify his claims?"

"Yes, he turned out a benevolent blue" he admitted stiffly since he wanted to believe the man was an enemy in hiding but was in actuality, quite amicable. It was no wonder he and Malik were chatting since meeting, continuing on inside their planning room while he watched them with a tedious eye. He wasn't a socializing man that was eager to befriend everyone, neither for business or a casual setting, and wasn't about to start that day either.

Vivian stopped rubbing her lower back, leaning back against the wall to relax as she tapped her fingers and inquired with a curious drawl, "So, uh, what will we do until sundown?"

"Anything that doesn't include you singing or telling tales" Altaïr replied to silence any ideas of using her shrill voice to bring entertainment to herself with her silly songs. His ears would be blessed if he never heard it again and although he didn't like the thief or his lifestyle, would not torture the man by exposing him to the horror. Only Templars deserved to hear the off-key screeching of her songs.

She pouted humorously as she attempted to both sway and make him smile, nudging her shoulder with his as she recited her newest song without singing, "Not even 'Altaïr, the greatest assassin ever, a hero of renown, who slayed an evil Templar and cast De Sable down'?"

Malik muffled a low chuckle when he watched his friend rub his face with the palm of his hands, groaning miserably into them as he demanded with a weary voice, "How. . .How do you keep inventing these songs? They're endless in their rhyming that even _I _must declare sorcery on this!"

Vivian offered a goofy little smile that caused his left eye to twitch to her carefree demeanor and he placed a finger against his lips, ordering sternly, "Shush for now! I don't want any peeps from you until we are out of the pyramid. . .only _then_ may you confuse me with your ghastly siren music."

_Man, do I love his dry antiquated sarcasm_, she thought with giddy delight since Altaïr rarely uttered humorous words and those were the closest she'd heard since meeting. Every time she poked the stoic eagle, he reacted swiftly with accordance to her intent and most of the time, she desired to share a few laughs with him. It was just about the only thing they found they could share, besides reading, and she was trying to find her way to begin bonding with him.

"Then that clears the way for me to nap away that awful long walk" Vivian grinned enthusiastically since the low lighting in the tiny room would have her snoozing in no time and grabbed his left arm with a wide smile. Her traveling packs made awful pillows with their lumpiness but the muscled biceps and radiating warmth from the assassin were just what she needed, almost tempted to recite the old tale of 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'. He stiffened to her touch immediately because he never allowed any person to touch him, tugging his arm away from hers but she didn't release him. Her eyes simply closed for slumber but her witty little smile widened with each shake and she stating impishly, "And _you_ shall be my snuggly pillow since you said only singing is forbidden."

"That's not what- get off of me!" Altaïr protested shrewdly when she clung tightly with the strength of a constricting snake and tried to wiggle her off his arm. Oh, what the brotherhood would've thought of him if they'd witnessed this embarrassment. He tried to pry her slender fingers off his upper arm but she growled softly, leaning forward to bite the intruding fingertips lest he invaded her conquered space.

Out of worry from obtaining a contamination from her uncivilized behavior, he let her be.

A few moments later, her hold loosened considerably as she relaxed against him and her quiet tone betrayed her previous behavior, "Whatever happens tonight, I hope you find your answers and I might find my own. We won't leave until we get that piece, I promise."

"Sometimes, I truly wonder how quickly you shift through emotions, Vivian" he sighed to her uncanny ability to infuriate and pacify his own emotions since he'd become rigid in matters of the heart. Even his face hardly betrayed inner emotions with others but she kept breaking each barrier that he threw her way, sliding past each obstacle with her optimistic kookiness. Her era molded her to be compassionate and friendly as war had not ravaged through her homeland as it had for others, soothing his own inner turmoil when plans were ready to be executed. He couldn't hold doubts in his heart despite the statistics against them but she simply hoped for the best and believed in him.

"If I don't, I will be no less than a Templar and bonds like this. . .they can't be broken" she whispered softly with a hopeful smile, curling up against him in similarity to a drowsy cat to nab a quick nap to ward away the exhaustion poking her mind. The first had brought nothing but an embarrassing moment but she needed to be well rested to make sure nothing escaped her view when they began their mission. She couldn't risk missing a vital clue that could lead her home or one that would give them the piece of Eden. Hopefully, he'd give her a tiny inkling of what they would do along the way but encouraged each of their hearts for the coming battle, "You'd be surprised how far the human heart can persevere against evil. It's something they can't understand and won't; we fight for the innocent, they fight for their selfish goals."

As crazy as she could be, she actually made sense this time.

* * *

**A/N**: I didn't dwell on Amon's character too much since he'll be popping out in the next chapter where we can learn more but he's a good guy so don't worry about Altaïr being backstabbed. We'll finally begin the pyramid mission to find the piece of Eden in the next chapter because the Giza portion of the story is truly the longest out of all. Once it's done, it's quick sailing until they reach Uganda as the three amigos bond over traveling. Since pyramids have always been known to have crafty traps, I'm still trying to create humorous ideas to use so if any of you guys have any, leave the suggestions in the reviews because I love ideas.

_slappywhite_: When Malik gets mad, you know it's pretty serious- especially when stranded in the middle of nowhere. He's the only one Altaïr and Vivian won't dare to enrage since he keeps the peace between them, he's practically their glue.

_shadowelf144_: I'm sure Malik will love the freebies. As for Vivian, life won't be the same for her since she'll live with them for almost 3 years so it will definitely be bittersweet. Right now, she's friends with the two since they have a month together but they'll become her surrogate family throughout the journey.

_xVentressx_: Thanks for loving the chapter.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: Thank you very much for always loving each one and reviewing ^_^.

_Sachikothepeacock_: Thanks you so much for loving the story, I'm glad to make each of my readers laugh since Altaïr is such a tense and stoic character (and my favorite) so I had to use him in a humorous tale. I've created Vivian to be as normal as can be, no Sue-ness or miraculous acquisition of powers or strength that no modern human can achieve in such a short time. She'll grow as time progresses in the story, just as Altaïr will, since I do love character development and it will be a natural progress. I'm happy to know Vivian's kookiness is adored by the readers.

_bunnehTweed_: I love it when bunnies fluff up, I can watch my rabbits do that for hours. :)

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: You've described Malik and Altaïr exactly how I picture them in my tales. Which movie were you thinking of? It would be pretty funny for Vivian to discover an alternate copy of herself but the poor thing is only trying to find a way home without being killed.

_Linda Chicana_: Vivian will slowly chisel Altaïr out of his stoic demeanor as they find hobbies to bond over since she'll never join the assassins (too Sue-ish for a dimensional traveler already), especially when she begins teaching him to swim. As for romance between the two, yes, there will be. Vivian will start showing her little hints once they enter Uganda but Altaïr's will come later since quick romances aren't an occurrence in my stories; it takes work and Altaïr isn't one to be lazy.

_Foreverafter_: Thanks for loving them, Altaïr and Vivian will definitely be getting along after leaving Giza.

_Nelarun_: I always worry about keeping the two in character but believable in humorous or outrageously unbelievable situations. I'm glad that Vivian's a natural believable character since she tends to drive Altaïr bonkers with her quirky facts but she's a kindhearted gal to match his stiff 'don't touch me' persona.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Artifact of The Gods_

When they arrived at the pyramid, their minds were torn between worry and relief as they hoped Templar reinforcements hadn't arrived. Amon could use his bombs to escape with his stealth skills but Vivian was an innocent civilian and as much as she could grate his nerves, Altaïr didn't want any harm coming to her. His camel widened the distance with Malik's as he headed for the pyramid at a full pace but brought the steed to a stop when his worst case scenario was stomped into the ground. Thankfully, Vivian awaited them at the bottom of the steps as she sat down with a big goofy grin on her face to her new find from her ransacking. She'd found coins to keep them fed for two weeks, random loot like pieces of copper and silver, amulets to trade, a smoking pipe Malik could use in case his current one broke, and small weapons that could be traded for money. She'd found extra knives for Altaïr to use so he wouldn't have to steal anybody else's and a new leather pouch for Malik to store herbs or souvenirs. And for herself. . .

Malik and Altaïr approached her as she polished glinting silver metal under her fingers with a rag, surprising the men since they'd never seen her touch a weapon since arriving in their realm over a month ago. She hummed a peppy tune behind closed lips as she concentrated on her task, drawing Altaïr's curiosity (and worry) to the long weapon and was the first to ask about the weapon in her hands, "I thought you said no to weapons?"

Her eyes caught his gaze with relieved joy to their safe return and she stood up with a broad smile, holding the wooden weapon in both hands because it was incredibly sturdier than her walking stick. She didn't want to replace her old fateful friend but just like any RPG game, when you found a better weapon, you better equip it to prolong life. It was definitely heavier but she would practice with the weapon to make sure she could handle it when another fight occurred but until then, her handy walking stick would do. She pointed at Altaïr to correct his assumption with a cocky little grin, "I said I wouldn't cause flesh wounds of a severe nature until prompted and with my defensive nature, I've been searching for something suitable."

Amon chuckled softly as he sat further up the steps, watching her meticulous cleaning since she started as she explained her first scrub came from watching Altaïr with his own weapons. Vivian folded her rag into a neat square, stuffing it in her nearest pack for safekeeping and he commented with amusement on her care of the weapon, "I think she's in love."

Holding the wooden staff of her new halberd weapon in her right hand, she used her left to point at the sharp metal end and grinned widely with excitement, "I believe this halberd will allow me to be on the defense as a staff until I've no option left so I'll have to poke them away . . . _and_ I can use it as a walking stick which is unbelievably awesome!"

Altair feigned disapproval to her choice in weapon but reminded himself that Vivian was meant to hide or be on the defense against enemies, never involving herself directly in a fight. It would provide ample protection once she learned to wield it correctly because he wouldn't dare let her run around with it like a child and admitted slowly with reluctance, "I don't know if I feel comfortable giving you a weapon, you're rather . . . unstable."

_Unstable is an understatement_, he thought dryly to her quirky behavior as she appeared ready to kiss her new weapon and waited on his approval for her to have it. What was he, her parent? Well, given the fact that she was on her own in a different realm, he was her caretaker of sorts. If there would ever be an award for most unorthodox relationships, theirs would win the prize automatically.

"Would you rather I take out the hidden blade gauntlet I have and go stab crazy on everyone?" she shot back dryly to the oversized gauntlet that hung from her wrist since her first day there as she kept it safely inside her pack. With Altaïr and Malik traveling far from home, she wanted extra parts to be around in case they needed to replace broken parts. She leaned against the weapon with a cheeky smile to the stone faced assassin and preened playfully, "A defensive stance is what we need, eagle boy."

He decided to allow her to keep the weapon for the time being since time was being wasted and stated coolly, "Fine, but if you accidentally skewer yourself, it's your own fault."


	20. Artifact Of The Gods

**Artifact of the Gods  
**

* * *

They hid their traveling packs in one of the empty stalls within the ghost town in case they required a hasty escape from their enemies at the outpost, concealing their precious belongings under crates because robbers could always be about. Amon assured that none traveled there since it was their territory but the scouts would keep an eye out since the Raj thieves had fallen into an alliance with the Templars. Vivian had decided to shed her robes for the gray assassin trousers in her pack and a tunic that matched Amon's because skirts were a definite no for sudden running or kicking away an enemy. The trio had waited in the underground safe house for a few hours until it was time to unveil their plan, Vivian and Altaïr snoring away together in one corner of a room while Malik tried his hardest not to become deaf by their sounds. Even Amon had to wonder what the two had endured to make such unbearable inhuman sounds.

When time came to ready themselves, Vivian stuck to the two assassins like a lost puppy because being in one battle didn't give her enough experience to ensure she'd see tomorrow. She tried not to appear clingy as she followed their footsteps down the corridor, stopping whenever they did, but Altaïr's trained hearing picked up her shoddy mimicking. He put an end to it by feigning another step forward, halting before his left foot lifted and amusement crossed his hooded face when she bumped into him from behind- falling straight into the trap.

She uttered a sheepish squeak and tried to regain her composure, taking sudden interest with a random crate and he excused himself from Malik and Amon. The thief would be leading the way inside the pyramid since the discovered chambers were known to the city's residents and superstitions kept most from delving deeper into the sacred chambers. That, and the numerous traps that were said to be in place also steered most looters away. Malik and the thief carried on with their conversation about life in Giza and Jerusalem (Altaïr was adamant he didn't give away Masyaf as their base of operations) since the two had become acquainted over their fondness of the pipe and protecting their people. Unfortunately, Altaïr had a horrible time fitting in since he found planning heroic deeds was the only topic he socialized about and had stomped off to sleep next to his number one admirer. He found a little solace with the time traveler when she enlightened him with knowledge about the universe they lived in, matching his recent entry of a hand drawn solar system. Afraid to creating any shifts in his future, Vivian refused to speak about his upcoming inventions and discoveries until he'd already written each down with a decent comprehension of the topic. She was already pushing the laws of time and physics by merely being there so without scientific answers to explain her existence, she'd keep mum about his codex.

Altaïr approached Vivian as she fiddled with the pockets of her trousers, mumbling inaudibly under her breath in a mixture of worry and mild irritation. He opened one of the rear leather pouches sewn to his belt and retrieved a bundle of copper wiring to hand it to Vivian, her green eyes blinking with confusion to the item between her fingers. He motioned untangling the round bundle since his civilian companion knew nothing about the weapons of his profession (except the popular hidden blade) and explained simply, "Use it to choke your enemies, force it against the center of their throat where the windpipe is or where their throat is exposed and strangle them with all of your strength. I know you don't want to take anyone's life, Vivian, but you have been thrust in a position where you will need to do this for both your own life and our cause."

"I'm not very strong" she murmured softly since lifting her packs and rowing were her only forms of strength training, leaving the tough stuff to the guys who knew what to do with it. She rolled the cold metal bundle between her hands, not ready to become a mafia boss that choked people and uttered a memorable catchphrase afterwards.

He kneeled down to lift the left leg of his trousers, revealing a sheathed knife that was strapped to his lower leg and concealed by his brown boots. Vivian's mouth popped open to the unbelievable arsenal the man carried and wondered what else he was hiding under that outfit. Her gutter mind decided to head down a lecherous road with that thought and the tips of her ears turned pink but thankfully, her loose hair covered them. This was _not_ the time to think of an Altaïr swimsuit calendar. He handed her the sheathed knife and neatly tucked the end of his pants back into his boots, standing up to encourage, "Normally, I wouldn't trust you with _any_ weapon but if anyone manages to sneak around you or trap you, don't hesitate to use this in close combat only. It is for your protection only so don't try to launch yourself at a Templar in the distance or divert their attention from me- I can protect myself more than you could ever achieve."

"I know that, I'm not a Sue with ridiculous abilities" she snapped sarcastically because she wasn't that crazy to place herself in mortal danger and tucked the sheathed knife inside her robes. The leather sheath was still warm with his body heat as she pressed it against her sternum, tucking it into the tight bandages serving as her archaic bra (it was her best friend in the world nowadays). She could see his brow furrow under his pointed hood to her random comment and she coughed awkwardly to state, "I mean, I'll follow your lead and if anyone does get near- I'll yell 'stranger danger' at the top of my lungs."

Altaïr didn't get the joke. . . and it killed her not to draw a single laugh or frown from him. At least then, she'd know whether he loved or hated it.

"Hopefully, our next location won't require us to head into old and dank architecture" Altaïr remarked dryly since the safe house was already unnerving him with its dim lighting and small spaces, wondering if the pyramid would be the same. Assassins were ready to tame all environments but open spaces were his delight as it provided ample room for maneuverability and escape from enemies.

Vivian burst his bubble for an easier location when she answered hesitantly, "Actually. . .Lake Victoria will have us taking the Nile to its source so we'll be on water for a long while, probably crossing the lake back and forth once we're there."

. . . Were those ancient beings trying to break his sanity with their outlandish piece locations?

* * *

The afternoon had come to an end as the cool wind of the evening began to envelop the ancient city but the pyramid of Khufu was not empty as law commanded. Templars had been stationed around the outer perimeter of the grand pyramid but Altaïr had disposed of them quickly with his hidden blade before hiding their bodies in nearby crates due to the lack of hay. There were four horses and three camels stationed on the right side as transportation for the Templars but Altaïr left them where they were since he didn't want to set the animals free. They could come in handy for his group as getaway steeds and the poor creatures could end up running off into the harsh desert, away from the city. Their small group had remained huddled against a conveniently placed wagon that hid their presence and whenever Altaïr faced more than one scout, Amon jumped in to divert their attention to make it easier. Being a thief, he'd already learned stealth and agility to free himself out of a bind.

Eliminating the Templars scouting the outside gained them immediate entrance and Amon began to lead them towards the bottom of the pyramid. Vivian was certain this pyramid had something to do with the piece of Eden or maybe one of the temples of sanctuary Minerva had spoken of to protect humankind. Why else would it be on the map Altaïr had seen? If they'd decided to place decoys, then their trip would be for nothing and the unbearable mosquito bites she had would haunt her for weeks.

"I have no issue seeing in the dark but I need you to carry a torch to light the way for the others" Altaïr informed Amon since he was their guide extraordinaire for the trip and Vivian pulled out a prepared unlit torch from a small knapsack. She'd left her traveling packs back in the ghost town but wasn't going to head into danger empty-handed, equipping emergency items in case accidents happened. Being a packrat in nature, she'd never hesitate on carrying something of use.

The quartet ascended the limestone stairs as the gentle breeze struck them, all of them focused on the task at hand . . .except for Vivian. She'd stuck behind Altaïr as he and Amon took the front but her eyes were glued on the ancient architecture underneath her. How could her mind _not_ be giddy over this? She'd only seen breathtaking images and read entries about this marvel but to walk upon it. . .there were no words. Her silent study of the limestone steps and the smooth pyramid came to an abrupt end when Altaïr's voice spoke over the imposed silence, "Vivian, don't make me tie your waist with a rope to my belt."

She blanched to his impenetrable awesomeness because he certainly wasn't looking her way at all (keeping his gaze directly at the front) and felt like a scolded child for becoming distracted, muttering flatly, "I'm not cattle. You freak me out when you go all Sherlock Holmes on me."

Vivian refused to glance down due to the lack of railing and wasn't about to have acute vertigo at the fifty plus feet of height as they reached the entrance. The wind hadn't picked up very much as daylight still shone over the horizon but it was quite a sight to gaze at the fading city of Giza. They were incredibly smaller than their current population in her time but the archaic time gave it a peaceful and beautiful aura from their height. They entered the dark passage that would lead them down towards the King's chamber but Vivian's history on its creation helped Altaïr decide that the lowest levels would be their best bet. After all, the queen's chamber still held tiny manmade passages that had yet to be opened.

Amon didn't need to light up his torch by hand as glass candle lanterns laid on the limestone floor to light their way as Altaïr took the lead, using his eagle vision to detect enemies hidden within the dimly lit corridors. Any traps of the past that kept away robbers had been disarmed by their enemies as they trudged their way through, the group detecting no sign of any Egyptian guards as they headed further in. They had no trouble traversing the long passages that slanted upwards that would lead them to the Queen's chambers first as they walked the same path of ancient Egyptians and the pharaoh himself during the golden years. Vivian found herself in disbelief and awe as a student, her hands gingerly touching inscriptions on the tall walls to outline their beautiful hieroglyphs as she tried to imagine the artist or scribe who had left their mark in time. Altaïr spelled danger to anyone associated with him but he'd brought her to places she'd never have visited in her own realm and found solace in that to replace the melancholy of missing home. There wasn't a day she didn't think of it and hoped to find answers with this mission.

The Templars weren't even aware of their presence as the lit lanterns served as Altaïr's advantage, giving their enemies a false sense of security as the one-way tunnel certified death. He made quick work of any Templars guarding the corridors for trespassers, Altaïr's hidden blade cutting off any yells for help as death was instantaneous. They were stationed far apart to the point that quick sounds or low demands didn't travel, echoes dying off before reaching the next guard and by then, it was too late. Amon had to admire the man's skill as his stealth was impeccable, putting most of his thieves to shame and counted himself lucky for not becoming his enemy.

"Man, you could fart in here and nobody would know" Vivian murmured out of the blue and it caused all of the men to stare at her random statement. She shrunk immediately underneath their candlelit gazes as her soft voice pierced the silent corridor and she quipped hastily with reddening ears, "I mean, let's continue."

The cozy corridors that ascended eventually opened up to reveal the Queen's Chambers, her resting place less elaborate than the pharaoh but it had been pillaged bare by tomb robbers like any other. It caused the hairs on Vivian's warm skin to rise on end as time froze in the interior of the pyramid, giving her a small sense of peace since it appeared quite similar to the one in her time. She smiled faintly at the prodding questions her youngest sister would've had but followed her companions because she depended on them. Altaïr, however, was in business mode as his vision had become engulfed in glowing signs that didn't match the hieroglyphs carved into the walls. They were randomly strewn at the entrance of the Queen's chambers on certain limestone blocks while a few were next to the shafts that were too tiny for a human to climb into but reminded himself to stick to this chamber. There had been none throughout the entire journey there and if there were no signs further along, this would be his main site of investigation.

There were two men stationed inside, one at the exit where it led towards the Grand Gallery while another circled the area of the room. For a master like Altaïr, it only took perfect accuracy with a throwing knife to eliminate the first and when the latter looked back with alarm, the assassin pounced. Vivian was almost tempted to throw out the eagle comparison and replace his animal counterpart as either a fox or a cheetah; the man was cunning and fast on his feet. Once the men were dead, Altaïr kept their troop moving back the way they came to the ascending passageway to take the next route and Vivian bit her lower lip with disillusion that she couldn't linger to study the ancient chamber.

Amon led the way to the next area and if Vivian could paint their entire trip to clearing out the men inside, it would be a puppeteer's theater with the three smiling male puppets hacking their way up a papier-mâché pyramid while an androgynous one waved a stick from behind while upbeat banjo music played in the background. Nonetheless, they managed to find the Grand Gallery that led to the King's Chamber and that's where they found their hoard of enemies as they were arguing whether their discovery unearthed a piece of Eden or something else entirely.

All four hugged the cold limestone wall as they slowly inched closer to hear what the argument was about. Apparently, all wasn't peachy in evil Templar land. All the men wore the same gray clothing and armor but one wore a red sash across his chest, pinpointing him as the head honcho as everybody else listened to him. He stood next the pharaoh's tomb as uninteresting items laid around the chamber but there were cloth sacks around the area with loot that told Vivian it was worth peeking into. Altaïr listened to them carefully while watching them with his eagle vision, a small smirk of accomplishment tugging at his lips when he noticed a familiar glowing item in the man's hands.

"If it was a piece of Eden, it would've reacted!" the man roared acidly as he waved the item over their heads for emphasis. Vivian released a sigh of relief because activating an item wouldn't bode well for her and the others since only Altaïr was immune to its effects. The man offered no respect for the dead when he slammed his fist against the limestone tomb and ordered briskly, "Keep searching for anything inside the other chamber!"

"Sir, what if we're merely not using it correctly? After all, only a Grand Master would know and Horal wants all items found given to him" one of the men suggested since they were lucky to find anything after months of searching. Of course, he wasn't looking for a quick death for insubordination and quickly added in helpfully, "Any power we find can be used against our enemies, especially now that we're infiltrating Saladin's lands."

_Man, all these AC Spaniard villains shame my maternal homeland_, Vivian thought sardonically and wondered if Ubisoft would pop in with a Spaniard villain for dear ol' Desmond. She really hoped she'd be home in time for the new AC game to figure out what became of Altaïr's life and Ezio's.

"We already have that taken care of, Grand Master Horal will broker peace with whoever is left standing in this crusade and playing the passive role will allow us to begin seizing these lands from the inside" their leader scoffed simply as their plans had already begun to be detailed by their newest Grand Master. Altaïr didn't like the sound of this and Amon was ready to destroy all of the men inside at the thought of his lands becoming a part of this secretive sect. Vivian and Malik hoped the men had large enough egos that they'd hand over details that could be used as 'red sash' guy kept talking, "Where De Sable wanted to frighten our enemies by conquering their lands and storming their fortresses, Horal will take the subtle approach with manipulation and destruction through kindness. It isn't hard to outsmart the minds of these oafish creatures-"

The rest of his words were cut off as Altaïr launched his attack, striking the uncovered back of the knees where armor failed to protect with his knives and two men went down instantly. Vivian smiled from her spot against the wall because hitting that popliteal artery would cause severe hemorrhaging, giving herself a high five for peering into her father's old college books while growing up and giving Altaïr the handy tip.

"Assassins!" the head honcho of the group declared with malice as the white billowing robes brought one single thought to mind and unleashed his team against the quartet. Metal swords unsheathed as they ran towards them, ready to butcher them like animals to keep the significant find for themselves. Amon threw his handy smoke bombs into the chamber to blind their enemies, lifting a finely woven scarf around his neck over his lower face to keep the smoke from being inhaled as the fibers served to filter the particles. His new allies had been given one as well to keep their lungs free of the constricting powder and Vivian yanked Altaïr by the belt to ensure he did the same rather than throw himself into the fray without it. She might've earned a quick grumble but he wouldn't be coughing out a lung like the other guys as they yelled out malicious words about assassins this and assassins that, irritating her ears as the yells echoed.

"You people say that so much it's lost meaning!" Vivian admonished loudly as she scuttled behind the men to let them fight and slash their way to the end of the chamber, holding her walking stick between cold clammy hands. How was she not supposed to feel fear when facing possible death in a cramped corridor? The three men formed a barricade at the entrance to keep the Templars from piling into the corridor, killing any that treaded near and Vivian used her walking stick to jab a few in the midsection to throw them off balance. It was the most she could do but kept an eye down the corridor for any unusual shadows because if back up arrived, they couldn't risk becoming wedged in a small area with two enemies on both sides.

Adrenaline pumped in her bloodstream as she watched the fight between good and evil, her eyes drawn to each of her companions fighting style. Amon used daggers to fight at close range since thieves were meant to be quick on their feet while Malik used his hidden blade only, kicking and incapacitating his enemies. Since the width of the corridor gave little space for maneuvering, Altaïr stayed at the front of the group with his sword to hack anything that dared to bypass him. Vivian muffled a yelp when she saw a man's arm sever in half and she wouldn't describe the real life gruesomeness of seeing a dagger slash a man's throat open. Her shoulders shuddered as she stayed back to guard them, pondering with pity, _You guys picked the lousiest job in this era. At least a manure salesman job would keep you alive._

When the crowd thinned, Altaïr left the two men to deal with the stragglers and headed towards the leader since he trusted them to take care of it. Vivian added her own helpful hand by throwing pocket sand into their eyes, blinding the men immediately as they yelped painfully to the gritty substance scratching their poor corneas. He hadn't gotten information from the last captain at the Cairo village and tackled the armored man before he could strike him with his sword. The two men clashed against the ransacked tomb of the pharaoh, the Templar's armored head butting against Altaïr's in an attempt to become free. Vivian struck a Templar across the jaw with the end of her stick to keep him at bay, knocking him into Amon's direction and called out to the assassin as she'd seen the counterattack, "The nose, Altaïr!"

One thing Altaïr hadn't told Malik about their reconciliation at the inn days ago was that Vivian had given him a load full of handy tips on street fighting after watching too many action films. He returned the action to the Templar but slammed his forehead against his nose, breaking it instantly with the force. It worked wonders as crimson blood seeped down the man's lips but the Templar reached for his closest dagger at hand, the trademark roundel of their order, ready to slice the assassin's throat open. Altaïr quickly grasped his wrist to apply pressure with his thumb to drop the weapon but the man kicked him in the stomach, strong enough to cause his hold to falter. The assassin, however, wasn't about to keel over to a tyrannical foe that left him breathless from a strike and punched the man across his bleeding face to tackle him against the stone sarcophagus once more. Amon, Malik, and Vivian gathered behind him as the remaining forces had been dealt with, their enemies dead corpses strewn around the chamber as blood bathed the limestone floor.

"You will not be spilling your order into this region!" Amon shouted fiercely at the armored man because he wanted to throttle him as much as Altaïr was at the current moment. He had never been a man of politics but this was a covert power struggle that threatened the lives of civilians, especially if their government would be infiltrated by these impostors.

The Templar had the audacity to laugh as he was heavily outnumbered and used his weight to push himself off the tomb, glaring at a scowling Altaïr as he declared coldly, "You fight for these creatures that thrive on selfish impulses. They create war and death all around them-"

"They have the right to choose what they want to be, we will not be your slaves" Altaïr snapped harshly because although he was immune to the effects of the pieces, his friends were not and he didn't want to see them as puppets for the Templars. He'd already witnessed it firsthand with his brotherhood and wasn't looking for a repeat, brandishing his sword against the Templar to end the fight once and for all. The metal sword glinted against the glow of the lanterns as he pointed it at the Templar's bearded face, stating bluntly, "You can disguise yourselves all you want but I know _what_ you are- what you represent to humankind!"

The man gazed at the weapon apathetically, his lips thinning as he stated with a cold haughty edge, "I will not leave here with my life but I will die gladly knowing you have no information to go on. Reinforcements will be arriving within this pyramid soon and already, forces are heading for Giza to begin eliminating troublemakers. The thieves will be first and while you struggle to figure out this object, they will destroy you all."

Altaïr moved forward to strike the man with the sword but the Templar surprised them all by using the dagger in his hand to cut his own jugular, blood pouring immediately from the severe wound. Vivian yelped in horror to the gruesome sight since she'd never imagined human being doing such and dropped her walking stick immediately. Blood poured down the wound without halt as the man gasped hoarsely with the briefest display of a smirk, "I will not give you the honor of killing me."

Altaïr rushed forward with a frustrated growl to cover the Templar's wound with his hands to prolong his life, kneeling alongside the dying man, and demanded roughly, "What do you gain in spreading to Africa, you cowardly. . .damn it!"

He wasn't the type of man to lose his cool easily but the Templars were planning their spread further into the continent than he first anticipated and if they were willing to die like this, their numbers weren't small. He removed his hands from the man's laceration, crimson blood dripping from all of his fingers as the natural pressure from the vessels kept pouring blood out of the wound. Malik stepped forward to hand him a handkerchief so he could wipe his hands clean since they were going to use weapons against reinforcements and slippery hands could mean the difference between life and death.

Vivian laid a hand on his right shoulder, her fingertips already feeling the tense muscles underneath and she murmured softly with encouragement, "You don't need him for answers, we'll figure it out together- even if it takes all night."

"Malik, Amon, keep an eye on the entrance" Altaïr ordered quickly to retrieve the item that the Templars had found before reinforcements arrived because they were sitting ducks inside the chamber. He pulled Vivian's left sleeve to bring her along, her feet stumbling behind him since she didn't expect the yank and he spoke quietly, "Search their pockets and bags for anything suspicious, only you and I can tell what these things look like."

"But if anything activates, I'm throwing it your way" she stated nervously because she didn't want to come in contact with those items, their untapped power dangerous in unskilled hands. Only he knew how to wield that power and hoped that she didn't find it, fearful of what it could do. . .but still searched through the pockets of the dead.

Altaïr threw aside sacks of ransacked items around him that held nothing but his vision lit up with an object that glowed yellow from within one of the pockets of the dead Templar leader at his feet. He reached down to fiddle through the man's outer robes until his fingers gripped the metal object, pulling it out from the inside lining of a tunic that the leader placed over his armor. It was a circular golden object, resembling a large coin with a hole in its center; never had he seen anything like it. When his fingers touched the object, the metal was as cold as any other but as he held it, it gradually became warm. He'd felt that sensation before and just as he suspected, the object lit up just as any other piece of Eden. Lines of molten gold outlined the key-like object in similarity to the Apple but something was off. . .

Altaïr felt a difference of power between the two creations he'd come in contact with as he tuned into the object with his sight to observe it closely. There were no elegant lines that exuded light from whatever power source it contained or the sleek shiny metal, merely geometric shapes in an arranged order that possessed a weaker power than the pieces. He didn't know what to make of it since his team believed they'd be led to a piece of Eden but his thoughts were cut short when angry voices filled the passageways. Malik's voice quickly warned the two with a low hiss to hold their element of surprise together, "Reinforcements!"

Pocketing the item into his leather pocket, he ran to the front to investigate and pinpointed three figures rushing towards them with brandished swords. Really, he must've been fighting amateurs because enclosed spaces required the use of shields to protect you from incoming barrages of arrows. He grasped his cross bow to fire it into the one leading the group, causing a few to stumble as the man dropped dead from the force at their feet. Hell broke loose as reinforcements arrived and his group was stuck inside a dead end with no escape route in sight and only the dead inside.

Malik's sword stabbed a Templar's chest that wandered too close, breaking through the armor as he kicked another away while Amon drove his daggers into the enemy's back. He assumed that most of the private funding for the Templar order remained back in the warring areas of the Crusades where good fortified armor was needed whereas Giza was peaceful and required light armor. Altaïr drove his hidden blade into the spine of another that tumbled over the piling dead as Vivian distracted their attention to expose their weak spots with her walking stick. Her handy pocket sand helped tremendously, keeping it at close range to prevent any blowback to her partners and her walking stick jammed a few in the eyes or crotch to cause brief pain.

Just as they decimated most of the numbers to gain the advantage, a cloud of smoke obscured everything and they sought cover from the concealed enemy for a pocket of air to breathe. The clouded misty view distorted everything and plunged the battlefield into dangerous water for them. Vivian felt something brush by her left side, a quick tug causing her to yelp with fright and she fell to the ground in an attempt to dodge any weapon or strikes whereas. She used her weapon to keep anyone that dared to wander close at bay by jabbing the air, hoping she'd keep her life intact to see another day. Altaïr punched someone when he felt a sharp yank on one of his leather pockets because he wasn't going to fear cowards hiding behind veils of smoke. Instantly, he remembered that spot was where he'd stashed the artifact and his eyes widened when he used his right hand to check it himself. . .only to find his pouch gone- ripped away entirely! They'd stolen the item!

Placing himself in danger for the coveted piece, he stabbed and slashed his way through the cloudy veil to eliminate his enemies. Using his eagle vision was a blessing because it prevented any accidental friendly fire because striking Amon, Malik, or Vivian would not bode well for them. Amon relied on his sense of hearing after years of training to fight in such an environment and Altaïr passed by him without a problem, leaving Vivian alone when he spotted her on the floor and perfectly fine. He stuck to Malik's side since his friend was at one arm disadvantage since fighting in smoky fields was a new one for them as assassins.

When the cloud cleared somewhat, revealing the pile of their dead enemies, Vivian cried out worriedly to the others, "Someone stole my pack!"

Malik noticed that the sealed sacks that had been strewn around the chamber by the Templars were also gone, leading him to inform, "So are the bags."

"The Raj thieves, they're taking everything inside here either for themselves or another group of Templars" Amon informed the group as he held a dead man dressed in similar garb to his gray and brown but the colors were black and olive green, throwing the corpse on the floor with a disapproving shake of the head. Did they really think they could sneak up on a master thief? It was a pity and shame that they'd turned a blind eye to their country in favor of men that offered power but he would not be weak like them. The previous bags that had been stacked throughout the room were gone, most likely filled with loot they'd pillaged from pyramid. European archaeologists had yet to arrive so it would be a while before they realized everything was picked clean and only the dead remained inside. Amon pocketed daggers from the fallen thieves, wiping blood off against their gray clothing as he called out urgently to Altaïr, "You must hurry or you will lose them."

Altaïr withdrew his throwing knives from the dead Templars, the motion echoing a wet thud from the pulling force, and he scowled towards the empty hallway to order his friends, "Let's go!"

"Go on, I need to loot these bad boys and study the chambers" Vivian grinned giddily since the area was deemed safe now and more than likely, she'd get in the way of the professional assassins. She wasn't a Sue with phenomenal powers; just a simple woman with a wooden stick for a friend and her skills came in handy for deduction or distraction. Vivian kneeled down to begin her foraging of the Templars pockets to find any coin for use and random loot that she could trade at the outpost. If RPG games had taught her _anything_ during campaigns, it was loot, loot, and loot corpses. Also, she would slow down the assassins and assured her friends with a convincing smile, "Amon can stay with me to find loot and I'll try to find more information for you, Altaïr."

Altaïr nodded agreeably since the danger would be with those men if they were heading for the Templars and if trouble did arise inside, he was sure Amon would get her out of it. Nonetheless, he pointed to the thief with a stern tightlipped expression because he'd promised Vivian her safety and ordered simply, "Keep her safe."

Malik and Altaïr ran in the same direction they'd entered, turning swiftly at every changing corridor that held a dead body every few meters and found themselves lucky when they found no resistance. Killing Templars was hard work and after facing three waves of enemies, the assassins were happy to find nobody waiting to ambush them. When sunlight poured into the first corridor that led to the entrance, Altaïr hastened his run to greet the sun because there were a few minutes in his run that he'd assumed they were lost but not anymore. The two practically flew down stairway toward the ground with fluid grace that would have normal people falling or breaking a leg but somehow, their assassin training made them infallible. It's why Vivian let them do their thing; she would've broken her injured ankle by the time they found the entrance or fallen down the stairs to roll like that colossal boulder in Indiana Jones. The outside of the pyramid was clear of all the threats or any backup from the Templars and none seemed to be approaching to hinder their chase.

Their devious suspects had fled on brown horses as they headed for the tourist outpost and Malik could see their outlines in the distance despite the heat waves emitting over the dry desert, leading him to point out quickly, "They're looking to blend back with the civilians."

"We have the leftover horses from the Templars, we're not giving up the chase" Altaïr ordered sharply because he'd catch up to them somehow, failure wasn't an option. There was no way on Earth he'd allow the ancient creation to fall into the wrong hands. He untied the reigns of two brown horses from the wooden post and handed one to his friend, stating grimly with unyielding resolve, "We _have_ to get them, Malik."

"You mean, you found. . .?" Malik asked quickly with surprise as he hopped onto the horse with his handy dexterity and moved the reins to get the mare moving towards the outpost. Altaïr simply nodded stiffly and both men headed back to the outpost with the utmost haste, hoping their horses could shorten the gap between them and their enemies. Otherwise, everything they fought for would crumble between their fingers.

* * *

The men followed the indented sand roads alongside the outskirts of the tourist hub in an attempt to cut the thieves away from help but each dispersed on a different route to confuse them. However, it paid off to have two men on lookout and catching a single thief would suffice to find their stolen goods. Altaïr spotted one of them walking the streets between a trading wagon containing carpets and a group of playing children, trying to keep inconspicuous by blending in but his eagle vision rendered it useless. Using the calling system that all assassins learned to communicate, he made a sharp but short whistle to alert Malik he was close and a pigeon's call to state he was going into hiding. Sure, nearby people stared at him awkwardly but he simply excused himself and stated he had the oddest coughs that day. Blending into a group of robed scholars that carried bundles of papers under their arms, he took a straggler's position as Malik purposely flushed out the perpetrator by calling them out. Alerted that he'd been found, the man hastened his pace ahead of Malik right to where Altaïr awaited him within the scholar's group. The maneuver was an exact copy of the hunting tactics of killer whales, flush out the enemy and pounce with an ally waiting in the shadows. Before the thief knew what had happened, Altaïr had ripped him out from the crowd in one swift movement and dragged him behind a pile of crates in a shadowed area.

Altaïr slammed the shorter man against the side of an empty wagon, his eyes narrowed with warning as he demanded sharply, "Give me what you stole from us!"

"The Raj never give up their catch, you were too slow" the man taunted him with a malicious smirk, unaware to the dangerous assassin in his midst. Altaïr hated the arrogant air of these men, their demeanors different than Amon's guild that only stole what they needed to survive and nothing else. Malik ignored the scuffle between the two as he played the lookout, blocking the two from sight by standing beside a group of stacked crates. He appreciated the helpfulness of randomly stacked crates more than haystacks; they didn't smell and you could hide inside just the same.

Altaïr punched the man in the gut to force an answer because if enemies refused to answer an assassin, they were allowed to use excessive force and he was in the worst mood after losing what he'd sought for weeks. He'd endured nasty vomiting over the Nile, being chased by wild animals, and a jabbering historian-in-training so he was getting his answers _today_. He grasped the front of the thief's brown tunic to slam him against the wagon and threatened frigidly with a low hiss, "Tell me or I will cut off your limbs and leave you in the desert to let you choose whether to starve or eat them to survive."

Vivian's suspense and criminal tales around the campfire did strike him with ideas to psychologically trap enemies who were cowards into revealing the truth. He would have to ask her for tips when they traveled again because if it made his interrogations easier, why not utilize them?

"I don't have it, I dispersed it to my brothers when I came into the city" the man laughed between the bouts of pain striking his midsection from the punching and Altaïr grasped the man's left arm to twist it behind him. He raised it higher with each passing second as the unnatural strain slowly began to dislocate the humerus from its socket joint. The man refused to divulge anything on their whereabouts and Altaïr didn't hesitate to rip the man's arm out of its joint, pulling it to the highest angle possible and twisted it to the side sharply to break it completely away. The man screamed to the unbearable pain as the ligaments bridging the bones burned and Malik quickly feigned concern by shouting that someone fell during their crate stacking in the back, concealing the true nature of their job behind him. People didn't pay attention since accidents happened all the time (Malik's charismatic smile helped them get on their way as well) and the man fell to his knees as Altaïr dropped the man's useless arm to grip him by the neck. The thief spit at Altaïr's boots in distaste for what he'd done and hissed disdainfully, "You are too late."

Altaïr decided to use a move that he'd never dreamt of using but Vivian had shown him tactics that were strange enough. Although reserved for defensive purposes, for women, the assassin kicked the thief between the legs to elicit a painful yelp from him. He wasn't proud of the action since he was a man himself but time was of the essence and would utilize all advantages. Even Malik had to wince since he'd only seen it performed by one particular person in their time and smiled to himself at knowing they'd bonded over a defensive technique of all things. The thief quickly shifted from a vagrant miscreant to a twitching ball of pain, leading Altaïr to demand one last time, "I won't ask again, _where_. . ._are_. . ._they_?"

"They were heading to the canyons. . .but you'll never find them, foreigner" the man whimpered painfully as he held his broken pride, among a few other things, but glared heatedly at the assassin. The man's yellow teeth bore at him in a vile hiss, causing Altaïr to remind himself to buy one of those horse hair toothbrushes that Vivian liked. His eyes narrowed with loathing for thief and the fallen man jabbed a shaky finger at his face to declare coldly, "That loot is ours and a Raj will _die_ before giving out secrets."

Well, that brought a quick conclusion to their interrogation.

"I'm glad Vivian isn't here for this part" he murmured under his breath and drove his hidden knife straight through the man's sternum to pierce the heart for an instant death. It was all he could do because he couldn't waste time with questions that would yield no answers since the others were waiting for him, not to mention this new trip to retrieve that artifact. Those damn thieves didn't realize the power they could unlock and Altaïr needed to get it back into his hands, shaking his head to the dead man with shame, "You should have chosen the honest path and this would have been avoided. Go now and rest in peace."

Laying the limp form of the man on the ground, they left the scene quickly by blending back into the thinning crowds as the tourists had retreated to nearby inns back at the city. Mealtime had arrived for most but Altaïr couldn't afford to eat despite all he'd had was a snack at noon and hoped his body had energy for a side mission. Malik followed his leader but this newest development unsettled him as their plans took a detour they hadn't counted on and asked worriedly, "What do we do now?"

"Find Vivian and head out to those canyons, I'll scour every patch of dirt until I find them" his friend answered firmly but exhaustion had begun to set into his mind after the day's event because he hadn't expected this much walking since sunrise. He couldn't afford rest as every minute was precious and retraced his steps to find the horse he'd left behind, hoping nobody had stolen it from him. Nowadays, everything could be taken but Giza was safer than the countries involved in the Crusades and rubbed his forehead to rejuvenate his energy.

Luck decided to lend him a hand when he found his horse chewing on a bale of hay, retreating quickly with Malik when the shop owner angrily demanded they pay for the ruined stock.

* * *

When they arrived at the pyramid, their minds were torn between worry and fear because they hoped Templar reinforcements hadn't arrived. Amon could use his bombs to escape with his stealth skills but Vivian was an innocent civilian and as much as she could grate his nerves, Altaïr didn't want any harm coming to her. His horse widened the distance with Malik's as he headed for the pyramid at a full gallop but brought the steed to a stop when his worst case scenario was stomped into the ground. Thankfully, Vivian awaited them at the bottom of the steps as she sat with a big goofy grin on her face to her new find from her ransacking. She'd found coins to keep them fed for two weeks, random loot like pieces of copper and silver, amulets to trade (she'd given most to Amon since they had no use for them), a smoking pipe Malik could use in case his current one broke, and small weapons that could be traded for money. She'd found extra knives for Altaïr to use so he wouldn't have to steal anybody else's and a new leather pouch for Malik to store herbs or souvenirs. And for herself. . .

Malik and Altaïr approached her as she polished glinting silver metal under her fingers with a rag, surprising the men since they'd never seen her touch a weapon since arriving in their realm over a month ago. She hummed a peppy tune as she concentrated on her task with a furrowed brow,

"_I got everything I need.  
Livin' free on trash booty.  
No, I don't suspect a thing.  
Bla bla blooblee, hobo dreams."_

Her peppy humming drew Altaïr's curiosity (and worry) to the long weapon and was the first to ask why it was in her hands, "I thought you said no to weapons?"

Her eyes caught his gaze with relieved joy to their safe return and she stood up with a broad smile, holding the wooden weapon in both hands because it was incredibly sturdier than her walking stick. She didn't want to replace her old fateful friend but just like any RPG game, when you found a better weapon, you better equip it to prolong life. It was definitely heavier but she would practice with the weapon to make sure she could handle it when another fight occurred but until then, her handy walking stick would do. She pointed at Altaïr to correct his assumption with a cocky little grin because she was glad to see him safe, "I said I wouldn't cause flesh wounds of a severe nature until prompted and with my defensive nature, I've been searching for something suitable."

Amon chuckled softly as he sat further up the steps, watching her meticulous cleaning since she started as she explained her knowledge came from watching Altaïr with his own weapons. Like any man of his era, he cared for the maintenance of his weapons since they prolonged his life and she always took notice of how he went about cleaning each every evening. Vivian folded her rag into a neat square, stuffing it in her nearest pack for safekeeping and he commented with amusement on her care of the weapon, "I think she's in love."

Holding the wooden staff of her new halberd weapon in her right hand, she used her left to point at the sharp metal end and grinned widely with excitement, "I believe this halberd will allow me to be on the defense as a staff until I've no option left so I'll have to poke them away . . . _and_ I can use it as a walking stick which is unbelievably awesome!"

Altaïr feigned disapproval to her choice in weapon but reminded himself that Vivian was meant to hide or be on the defense against enemies, never involving herself directly in a fight. It would provide ample protection once she learned to wield it correctly because he wouldn't dare let her run around with it like a child and admitted slowly with reluctance, "I don't know if I feel comfortable giving you a weapon, you're rather . . . unstable."

_Unstable is an understatement_, he thought dryly to her quirky behavior as she appeared ready to kiss her new weapon and waited on his approval for her to have it. What was he, her parent? Well, given the fact that she was on her own in a different realm, he was her caretaker of sorts. If there would ever be an award for most unorthodox relationships, theirs would win the prize automatically. Although they were five years apart in age, experience separated them by decades- not to mention the centuries of their respective realms.

"Would you rather I take out the hidden blade gauntlet I have and go stab crazy on everyone?" she shot back dryly to the oversized gauntlet that hung from her wrist on her first day in Jerusalem as she kept it safely inside her pack. With Altaïr and Malik traveling far from home, she wanted extra parts to be around in case they needed to replace broken parts. Vivian would never dream of using the weapon nor was she eager to try it, keeping her role as a decoy and informer only. She leaned against the weapon with a cheeky smile to the stone faced assassin and preened playfully, "A defensive stance is what we need, eagle boy."

He decided to allow her to keep the weapon for the moment since time was being wasted and stated coolly, "Fine, but if you accidentally skewer yourself like a hog, it's your own fault."

Shaking his head to Vivian's little streak of stubbornness, he turned to the thief who had helped them and sought his aid once more, "The thieves have fled to the canyons with the item. If the Templars realize this, our battle will have been for nothing. I know our deal was to eliminate our enemy here-"

"They'll keep coming until we take that thing south or they seize it and increase their militia here" Vivian finished for him as historic war strategies always strengthened the borders to keep enemies at bay before spreading further. They had no idea how long or large the canyon would be, grabbing her pack off the floor as another trip was at hand and asked politely, "Do you know where it is? How far away? Any interesting landmarks where they can stay?"

Amon didn't know what power the two groups were fighting for; he was better off without the knowledge and wanted it away from the city. Greed was an unfavorable trait and he didn't want his city to fall to those armored men and pointed west where the horizon was slowly shifting into the early colors of sunset. He hoped he was choosing the lesser of two evils because they hadn't attempted to dispose of him and answered helpfully, "A few miles that way. The caves to the north have been known to serve as their hideouts, we've flushed out a few in the past. They won't wander too far with the setting sun since the desert land is coldest at night."

Altaïr nodded with thanks for the tips because they would've been searching blindly for that canyon and headed down the stairs for his steed, his mind running a mile a minute. He saw an opportunity with the thieves to keep the Templar order out of the city by bringing a few of his assassins there to establish a post and offered, "You proved your worth with this job and if you want to see your lands free of these oppressive men, I have another job for you seeing as this one has now ended."

"I'm listening" Amon agreed simply since he'd hear out the man for his proposition since he'd made good on his promise to clean out the men in the outskirts. The ones inside the city would be dealt with once sunset arrived to shroud his thieves and prevent any outgoing messages for reinforcements.

"I will need you to travel to Gaza and lead a small number of my people back to your city for protection" Altaïr proposed as he saw the first opportunity to expand his order to other continents since Vivian told him they would be an advantage. Amon was a man of his word (despite his profession) and since he wouldn't have the time to observe his guild due to his schedule, his order could evaluate them as an ally. With the silent war against the Templars, the assassins needed an advantage against them and thieves lingered in the shadows just as they did.

"And how will that be different from what we have now with these men? How do I know they won't attack my people?" Amon asked hesitantly since he relied on the trust of his men rather than strangers he'd met for only a day. The three might be honest by trying to save the world but would the rest of his associates be the same way? What power did the robed man hold that would ensure that?

Vivian decided to answer that question with friendly nature and suggested enthusiastically, "An alliance. They work in the shadows to keep peace from those that would take away the free will that any human being deserves. Templars work to enslave and rule with an iron fist while Altaïr's order- he's leader, by the way- fights that by maintaining freedom. Both sides are to be feared but they are the ones protecting us. When you hear of an unjust elite meeting their end, the assassins are at work and when you hear of a dead leader that was loved by its people, Templars are at work. Then again, a Templar could be just as nice publicly but evil incarnate in private."

"Our connections lack the military prowess the Templars possess as they use the Crusades as their disguise and we need to gain an advantage" Malik added in helpfully to inform Amon what kind of treacherous people they were dealing with as he grabbed the camels to begin their chase after the thieves. Horses were wonderful steeds but camels were better for longer trips and had better handling of running through sandy dunes. He grabbed three for their journey and left the other animals with their tied reins on the post so Amon could take them back, sell them off, and keep the profits. Altaïr traded his horse for the camel without a second thought and fixed the saddle quickly as Malik continued earnestly, "You heard that man, they are planning something aside from what occurred here today. It would be best that somebody watch out for your leaders and the people; with their influence, it will take both our groups to accomplish this."

Amon weighed the decision since he wasn't an impulsive man, eyeing each of them for any ulterior motives, and Vivian piped up with a cheerful smile to entice, "And we have treats. Well, not right now, but I'm sure their cooks have something nice."

He laughed to her humorous quip since she was the innocent civilian in their group, seeing no malice in her as he had with the other group, and took the plunge to agree, "If you have an amicable woman like her in your order compared to these men who tried to decapitate me, I will oblige. Of course, I will have to speak with my guild about this."

"Meet me later tonight at the inn at the eastern border, I will answer all of your questions" Altair informed to further discuss the plan because they had thief ass to kick and beckoned his group forward. Vivian waved goodbye to their thief ally with a bright smile since he'd been a good acquaintance as he left to return to the city on a brown horse, along with the others. It was a shame they couldn't travel on land because a chocolate toned horse in the bunch was rather gorgeous, reminding her of old Shadowfax. What had become of that pretty white mare?

"Altaïr, make sure to keep west because they use the largest canyon passage" Amon advised carefully since they would need to keep an eye out and he bid adieu to their group, leading the remaining animals by the reins to make sure they wouldn't spend a night out in the cold. He had to return to his team to make sure they tracked down all of the remaining Templars inside the city for elimination later on. Those that wandered into the small tourist spot around the pyramids were easily dispatched into an early afterlife by a small group of his thieves as Altaïr's tips about their weak spots and best weapons came in handy.

Securing the weapon into its leather belt across her back, which she'd stolen from its previous Templar owner, she adjusted it over her shoulder in the classic messenger bag style as she tightened it carefully. Altaïr decided to play nice with the petite historian since she wielded a dangerous weapon. He moved behind her carefully to ensure all of the straps were secure against her slimmer form and locked the weapon in the sheath. Vivian thanked him for the help with a friendly smile as her fingertips slid over the smooth leather strap across her chest and piped up, "Where to, boss?"

"To the west, we have some hunting to do" Altair answered grimly to begin the chase because he would not rest until that object was in his hands. All of his hard work would not be for nothing and knew his friends had the same mindset.

Vivian groaned to his lackluster dramatic tone and casual pose against the desert landscape, leaning forward to grasp the hilt of his famous sword and tried not to drool that she was handling the 'sword of Altaïr'. The back of her mind giggled naughtily to the euphemism as the assassin reprimanded her for grabbing his property without consent, leading her to chastise humorously, "You said it all wrong. Be like Aragorn: 'Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light! Let's hunt some Orc- I mean, _thieves_!," looking to Malik, she added in, "Malik, I'll need you to grin madly to the thrill of an upcoming battle and declare 'yes!'"

He ripped her hand away from his sword and grasped her head in both hands, causing faint blush on her cheeks to the calloused fingers touching her ruffled hair, and he locked their gazes to state firmly, "Vivian, retain the lingering remnants of the sanity you have left in that little head of yours and _close_ those perplexing lips."

"I find her quotes quite entertaining" Malik laughed amusingly to her comical rambles since none of her quotes or stories attacked anyone on a personal level. Unfortunately, Altaïr was not in a jovial mood to fuss over her jokes. . .but then again, when was he ever? He released the snickering Vivian from his grasp and she chose a tawny camel to call her own for a few hours, idly scratching an itchy spot at the base of her scalp (the lack of daily showering was horrible) as she wondered how she'd ride it.

"I shall call you Buttercup and you shall be mine" she cooed sweetly to form a temporary friendship with the animal, its black eyes peering at her as its height towered over her. The back of her mind hoped it wouldn't spit on her to add fuel to Altaïr's verbal ammo. She'd no idea how she would climb onto the animal since hopping onto a horse had brought her tumbling down on Altaïr and falling on her bum more than once throughout the learning process. There was no question she'd make an ass out of herself riding the poor animal and cursed herself for not watching reruns of old movies taking place over the Sahara and desert lands heading east past Syria. She plastered a wide smile that rivaled a Disney parade dancer and looked to the men to ask sweetly, "So, who will be the kind gent to help me up this thing?"

Malik grinned slyly to the obvious answer, holding the reins of his new camel in one hand to keep it in place and excused himself with a triumphant smirk, "I'm at a one armed disadvantage here so Altaïr is the only one. It's amazing enough that I can hop onto this alone."

Altaïr sighed exasperatedly to the grueling task set before him because time was ticking away and wished he held the strength of a thousand men to hurl Vivian all the way to that canyon. At least then, he'd save his sanity with the lack of endless jabber and cut away the extra baggage. His fists clenched as he took on the first ancient pose to be called 'assassin tantrum' by Vivian as he glared heatedly at both of them and grumbled miserably between thinned lips, "I hate you all."

"The sooner you give me a super assassin boost, the faster we can leave" she retorted to his quiet brooding and Altaïr groaned under his breath at remembering she was awful at giving chase, leading him to abandon the idea of giving her a camel at all. If anything, it would be a _catastrophic_ idea! Quickly, he pulled the reins out of her hands with a firm grip and ignored her protesting yell about kidnapping 'Buttercup'.

Whistling loudly, he caught the attention of the departing Amon as his leisurely pace prevented the animals from lagging behind and Altaïr pointed to tawny camel to motion he had another to add onto his bundle. The thief's groan echoed through the silent fields of sand as he turned around his little entourage to collect the camel as Altaïr tied its reins to the post to secure it. He turned to Vivian to give her a boost onto his brown camel, her fingers gripping the saddle of black leather and colorful cloths as her eye was drawn to the handmade stitching.

He smacked her hands away gently to keep her focused and leaned down to interlock his dusty fingers to help her up. She used her weight to aid her momentum as her right foot landed in his hands and he stood up to push her upwards with his strength, her hands moving forward to the front of the saddle for a grip while her left leg went over the other side. Her lips broke into a peppy grin for succeeding since the camel was definitely shaped differently than the horse with its single hump and adjusted her weight to become comfortable. Well, at least she had her camel for the trip and giggled evilly, "Ha-ha! All I need is Indiana Jones' hat and whip to be the master archaeologist in this era!"

Vivian remained oblivious to his plan as she readied herself to grab the leather reins to begin an awesome chase that would rival. . .well, she'd never actually seen camel races but something similar to that. Altaïr stopped her as he hopped on to take the front seat, pushing her back further on the saddle and grabbed the reins himself. Wait, what just happened? Her face held a miffed expression that could only match a cartoon character as her moment was seized by the assassin and poked the center curve of his back to admonish, "What about Buttercup?"

Craning her head, she caught a glimpse of Amon departing with the pretty camel in tow to who knows where and exclaimed woefully, "No-o-o-o!"

"We need to be fast and you'd probably send that poor creature tumbling through the sand dunes within ten minutes" he snapped back to silence her childish woe over the animal as he began the journey west, following the sun's direction to prevent becoming lost. If he did get the tiniest inkling, he carried their handmade compass in his back pocket so Vivian could easily grab it for him. Speaking of grasping things, he ordered quickly before the camel switched from its trot to a run, "Grab on or I will leave you behind wherever you fall at."

She hissed rebelliously to being treated worse than luggage and wrapped her arms around his waist as she rested her cheek against his back, a sly smile breaking onto her lips as she felt the heat of his skin radiating through the robe. Oh well, at least taking the backseat allowed for a comfy ride. The sensation of the slumping woman across his back, of course, brought another gruff order, "I'm not your pillow so don't you dare fall asleep."

"Fine, but you're going to listen to me as I whisper sweet nothings in your ear" she joked cheekily with a breathlessly sultry tone to rile the stone faced assassin and heard a growl reverberate through his back. Her acts weren't meant to enrage him (no matter how much she fed the little fangirl monster inside her), simply to focus his mind away from the sudden stress of the new objective because she didn't want him popping a vein. Her right hand rubbed the center of his back as his shoulder blades moved underneath his robes, hoping to ease any rising tension in his muscles as she changed her tone and assured optimistically, "We'll get it back or die trying like true heroes."

That didn't cheer him up at all!

"You're awful at comforting" he snorted sardonically to her chosen words since dying was not an option open to him with so much resting on his shoulders and she indulged her fan girl fantasy by hugging him tightly. She smiled evilly at knowing how uncomfortable it made him and grinned triumphantly to unsettling the impassive man as she played kryptonite to his Superman. Some fans might've been swooning and doing his bidding just for the mere chance to speak with him but Vivian wanted to see what made him tick. It allowed her to glimpse into the side that was human rather than the stoic dangerous hero that he was.

"Yeah, well, you look fat in that outfit," was the easiest retort she could come up with as the soft robes and toned muscles set up a comfy portable bed for Vivian as she clung on like a happy marmoset on a tree. No wonder assassins liked these robes, they were extremely comfy to wear and pleased anyone that decided to take a cat nap on you.

"I thought it was a piece of Eden" Malik spoke up on a side note about the object since artifacts of their time lacked ethereal glows and wondered what mysteries these beings held as they dug deeper into the past. He never thought he'd be delving into an entirely different world than assassinating and keeping the peace, hoping it wouldn't get him killed but it was to protect the world. Still, he'd like to see his fortieth birthday one day and take that trip across the Mediterranean. He followed behind Altaïr, trying his hardest not to laugh at Vivian's comical appearance as she resembled a baby chick huddling inside its mother's feathers, and pondered aloud, "We are delving into a truth that not many will have the heart to comprehend."

"It is better to live in it and adapt rather than stay stagnant in a glass house full of ignorance" Altaïr remarked simply to add in his two cents on the matter because only he and Malik knew the full extent of what they were heading into. He hadn't fully disclosed everything to his order due to the sensitive material that could shift their entire view of the world, merely instilling new changes in the order while stating he was heading out to find information about the piece (facts he'd known since beginning the trip).

Vivian pondered the thought as the creed's popular rule of 'nothing is true' floated in her head and she grinned to exclaim dramatically, "Hey, we're the ancient version of Myth Busters!"

She grinned sneakily since the ride was filled with suspense for what awaited them and sang one of her catchy tunes,

"_Get ready for the ultimate prize!  
Gonna get the artifact before it pops out eyes!  
Never in your life would you dream of...thi-i-is!  
Never in your freaking life!"_

_Ha-ha, Peppermint Butler rules_, she thought mischievously to the many songs she'd heard on that Adventure Time TV show her sisters were fascinated with. _I'll never be too old for hilarious cartoon shows._

"Vivian, you have _officially_ lost your talking privileges for the duration of the trip" Altair stated firmly with a smug smirk hidden under his pointed hood and it widened evilly with her protesting groan from behind. Surprisingly, she obeyed without offering a sassy remark. Malik muffled a laugh behind closed lips as they returned to their old banter-nagging routine that gave Altaïr another sense of purpose. Altaïr didn't care, he was just happy with the glorious silence filling his ears. Maybe the trip would roll on smoothly with his imposed rule on silence as her sass would wither and die like a flower without the life-giving sun.

The next second had Vivian clinging on like a little girl with her favorite stuffed bear except in her case, her favorite grumpy assassin. Thankfully, he was no longer tempted to slay her to put an end to her jabber as their peaceful truce kept him at bay. To be quite honest, he'd never bring himself to do or think of such a dishonorable act; she was growing on him, unfortunately.

Altaïr frowned deeply as his dignity was stabbed by a thousand rusty swords to the physical contact, _I stand corrected, I prefer the jabber to this._

* * *

**A/N**: The heat in my city is killing me, which is why this one was a little late in coming out because even a cooling pad didn't help my poor laptop. Anyway, it's been a while since we've heard one of Vivian's little tunes but the gal deserves it after fighting inside a pyramid. I don't want her turning into a Sue by suddenly having fighting techniques and knowledge on weapons because she's a normal woman that sticks to books which is why she'll gradually learn defensive fighting with a weapon. Even then, she won't be fighting like the assassins- she's their decoy, after all. The team will be heading to the canyon to kill the thieves, implementing Vivian's handy personas to gain access to find that piece. If anybody hasn't guessed yet, it's one of Altaïr's memory seals from Revelations so not even poor Vivian will know what it is (keeping her far away from Sue-dom).

Thank you for the new alerts and favs, not to mention the wonderful reviews (although the new 'guest' system is a little annoying):

_Dan the paper guy_: The heat in my city's been killer for updating, even now the keys on my laptop are burning my poor fingertips. Lol. I'm very glad you love the story and I'll mix in more banter between the two, it'll get better once they're out of Giza and away from civilization.

_SachikothePeacock_: Thanks for the encouragement, I hope you liked the images of the characters.

_Kallios the Scholar_: Malik loves her fictional tales but Altaïr calls blasphemy on all. I didn't think my songs would be so popular but as long as they're linked or referenced to the story, there's no problem at all. I'm glad people like them. That's how I imagined Amon to be, an old-fashioned example to La Volpe (I really like his character), since Altaïr has to learn assassins can work with others. I think we'd all like to send Vivian items from the future, the poor gal needs a little pick me up once in a while. I don't mind rambling, I love reading everything my readers find interesting or what they want to ask questions on.

_Kaica_: I love it when my readers say they laughed so hard, it brings me extreme happiness for it.

_NeverGoodbyeRoxas_: Your review reminded me of the end of chapter 12 where Altaïr calls her Malik's pet. Trust has been a big factor for Altaïr but seeing that Vivian's as innocent but humorous like any other person out there, she's slowly weaving herself into his life until he can't help but care for her (platonically or romantically). Your pet comment gives me an idea for other chapters since he's already given her morsels, tied her up, and patted her on the head like any pet owner.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Altaïr are almost nonexistent with his stoic personality, especially when Vivian enrages him. We'll see him melt slowly with each passing chapter because once they leave Giza, they're on their own to head to the less populated lands in Africa. For some reason, the only Disney music I can relate to for Vivian is 'Heigh-Ho' from Snow White due to her energetic attitude. I'm glad you like Amon's character, I always like creating credible OC's for canon characters in stories so we'll see more of the pleasant thief.

_Chausters_: I'm always glad to hear Vivian's nowhere in Sue-dom with each progressing chapter and yes, her introductions always leave the poor woman embarrassed as Altaïr covers for her rambles with a mortifying excuse (bladder issues, staring at the sun). Poor Maria, already being traded over in a second for Vivian (ha-ha). Altaïr will meet up with Maria once they finish at one of the POE locations, by accident, while Vivian will meet her far later- near the end of the story, I believe. The two women won't be fighting over the assassin as Maria will find her eye straying for somebody else but Altaïr will become fiercely overprotective once he realizes he cares for Vivian and won't let anybody that's single get close. I love answering questions so don't hesitate to ask!

_Foreverafter_: Thanks for leaving your name in the guest review, otherwise, I wouldn't have known it was you. :)

_KrnYong_: Yep, Vivian's getting a little bold streak now that she and Altaïr put that nasty antagonism behind them. Altaïr is like an iceberg when it comes to love, slowly melting away each layer with time until he realizes 'this angry badger is the one for me' but that will be quite a while. I don't see him falling in love with someone immediately, it's unrealistic, but I'm glad you'll eagerly await it. He'll start the final thawing at the end of their trip in Uganda while Vivian will already be showing distinct signs. In the end, she'll be the Hufflepuff to his Ravenclaw.

_Marli-chan Tuchanka_: I appreciate each reader for my stories, you take the time to read what I write and I return the same courtesy by answering reviews and any questions. :)

_Guest_: Thanks for loving the story so much, I wish I had a penname to answer to besides 'Guest' but thanks!

* * *

**Next Time**: _The Siren and the Bearded Lady_

The next stage came into play as they kept up the 'lost ladies in the desert' ruse despite Malik's horribly cracking voice and the 'women' drew the attention of the remaining thieves at camp by simply barging in with their ditzy personas. Of course, acting lost and in need of help- the classically clichéd damsel in distress mode- drew undivided attention from the thieves as Vivian played herself the sap by believing they were spice salesmen due to their (stolen) goods.

The hilarious irony, to Altaïr anyway, was that the men paid more attention to Malik in his fake getup than Vivian. Apparently, his tall height and build made him perfect for farm work and domesticating animals- not to mention, tending to a husband. Given Malik's ethnicity, his familiar physical appearance was more attractive than Vivian's foreign pale shade as a woman. Before Malik popped a brain vessel and stabbed all of the men for daring to place him into general labor, Vivian drew their attention by dancing and singing one of her random songs to allow Altaïr time to slice everyone to pieces. That, and Malik looked ready to kill a few men but it wasn't the dai's fault he was attractive in either gender.

"Now, keep your eyes on _me_ and clap loudly to entertain yourself!" she enticed cheerfully with a dazzling smile to make sure nobody would look behind to the ledge above them where Altaïr had just eliminated their last two scouts. Hopefully, the dead bodies wouldn't twitch and fall over the ledge to drop behind them. She needed all of them to keep their focus on her while he picked them off one by one, his mind ready to craftily use the bags of loot to replace the bodies because men's attention span in this era wasn't very long. After all, they'd chosen to be thieves . . . he'd keep that last comment to himself because Amon would undoubtedly throw him out of Giza for it for daring to stereotype him.

_"On a tropical island,  
Underneath a molten lava moon.  
Hangin' with the hula dancers,  
Askin' questions cause' they got all the answers  
_

_Puttin' on lotion! Sittin' by the ocean!  
Rubbin' it on my body! Rubbin' it on my body!"_

Altaïr almost slapped his forehead to her horrid dancing skills as she swayed her hips like a person using a hoola-hoop and smiled goofily with her hands in the air to imitate a graceful Hawaiian dancer. Unfortunately, she resembled a reject that held none of those fluid movements and Altaïr found no alluring traits in it- not that he intended to. Nonetheless, it allowed him to kill the first man efficiently with a strike to the heart from behind with his hidden blade. He performed an Indiana Jones move as he replaced the body with a sack of loot while his friends concentrated on. . .really, they found her hip gyrating interesting?

_Get me out of this caa-a-ve,  
'cause it's nothing but a gladiator graa-a-ve.  
And if I stick to the plaa-a-n,  
I think I'll turn into a lava womaa-a-n.  
I think I'll turn into a lava woman!"_

Malik simply encouraged the loud clapping and obnoxious hooting while keeping an eye on the slithering assassin that struck with the dexterity of a viper behind each man that sat in their random spots.

* * *

_Thank you for the continuous reading of my tale, Altaïr does a dance for each hit. :)_


	21. The Siren and The Bearded Lady

**Inspired** **By**: _"Alan Silvestri- My First Bus Ride" _

* * *

**The Siren and the Bearded Lady**

* * *

The silence that Altaïr imperiously enacted had broken like a shoddy patched roof under a heavy snowfall near the end of their trip as a cheerful voice prattled on,

"Another of Viv's fun facts: Did you know that men are _six_ times more likely to be struck down by lighting? It was a very interesting thing I learned from an article so be careful when you travel in bad weather. Oh, we're born with 200 bones but by adulthood, will have 206. Isn't that just fascinating?"

"Quiet, she-badger" Altaïr silenced her incessant (and useless) ramblings because he'd had enough of her sporadic 'fun facts' since she began fifteen minutes ago to pass the time. Since then, he'd learned that ashes weighed about the size of a large newborn infant, people generally used the bathroom six times a day, and that honey entered the bloodstream within twenty minutes. . .facts that he could've lived entirely without knowing! It had been mildly irritating at first but like a drop of hot sweat that cascaded down the center of his spine with the agonizing speed of a snail, it snowballed into full blown annoyance.

Although he couldn't see her little glare of defiance, her voice carried through with her dry sarcasm, "Your breathtakingly articulate words of peace _stun_ me into silence."

The hunt had brought them deeper into the desert as the sand dunes parted for canyons and cliffs high enough to kill any man, the desert melting away into rocky earth to grant them entrance. The breeze caused echoes to travel downwind, giving it a spooky atmosphere as sunset licked at the horizon to start enveloping the azure sky with its orange glow. Using his eagle vision, Altaïr had managed to find their enemy's trail over the flat ground as crimson streaks remained in their passing in comparison to what normal men could not see. It was a gift he treasured but knowing _where_ it came from after Vivian informed him late one night, he was better off not knowing (it comforted him to know those beings unsettled her as well). He led the way through the rocky terrain but traversing the canyon could be tricky since animals made noise and they were vulnerable to be seen in the open as they traveled over the first level ground path. It worked for scoping out the landscape and although most of the time leaps of faith worked efficiently for him, there were no suitable bales of hay or a random Templar to break his fall. He was also certain that Vivian wouldn't gladly volunteer for the job either but she was hardly a decent cushion with her petite frame so he'd more than likely break his teeth.

"There! They've stopped" Altaïr spoke up with a wolfish grin that would normally be aimed at the sudden death of his enemies and Vivian had to arch an eyebrow to the passionate enthusiasm. Well, fans can't complain that he's not a determined man because a cartoonist would've drawn him foaming at the mouth by now. Malik remained impervious to his friend's manic expression because they'd been a dime for a dozen back before his redemption and had seen all of the possible facial twitches.

The dai glanced at the farthest area on the ground where the group of thieves was gathered, stationed to the west just as Amon had said. Their casual unguarded movements told him that camp had been found for the night as the path ended with a natural alcove embedded within the canyon to provide shelter. Malik hoped that it was only the thieves that were stationed there and that Templars weren't lurking within that dark cave for an ambush. He pointed to the rocky ledges that provided posts for scouts over said alcove as they melted into paths that ran extensively throughout the canyon, explaining carefully with shrewd perception in those chocolate eyes, "The canyon has given them a false sense of security, seeing as they can post scouts throughout the ascending levels and nobody can sneak up on them from behind. However, I assume that most will be gathered below to protect their loot and that is where we must strike to let down their guard while another disposes of the scouts."

"Hmm, just like an old clichéd dragon with its hoard" Vivian snorted with pity to their creativity but they were in the middle of a desert land so it wasn't too farfetched. She expected silence for her joke but found herself pleasantly surprised when both men agreed to the analogy, smiling widely with glee to her first true success since arriving, "Finally, a joke that's so old even you guys understand!"

"I can take care of the scouts" Altaïr stated simply to his mastered stealth skills and kept his eye on the camp, keeping his camel in one spot before it decided to head elsewhere out of boredom. He tried not to grimace when Vivian's chin propped against his left shoulder as she peeked over the canyon's edge to catch a glimpse of what he was observed. What could she possibly learn from the land that he couldn't? Keeping his comments about personal space to himself, he withheld from shooting a reprimanding glare at the woman and kept the annoyance out of his voice as he continued, "We need a way to separate them into clusters because heading deep into the camp to find their treasure will allow me to be detected. I don't see many geographical formations to cover me, nor do they have wagons, and my clothes will make me apparent against the rock."

"Maybe we could distract them and you could swoop in to grab it?" Vivian suggested helpfully as she pointed to the rocky ledge above the cave that kept one hidden from view. Being an assassin, he would have no issue with it as long as somebody distracted the group and put her little neurons to work on their hamster wheel. She might not have a strong arm or fluid agility but her mind was the best weapon she could wield so adding input into a strategy would keep him safe. . .and possibly boost the little speck of respect she had a bit higher. Oh, how she tried.

The master assassin shook his head to the idea but kept it in mind for further tweaking as he spoke quietly with his shrewd vigilance, "No, they will not be putting up tents. I believe some will remain here while the other part to meet the Templars so we must stop them now because an opportunity of escape will lose this for us."

He looked to their surroundings for aid but a sudden rock slide could cut off their own escape as well, possibly injuring either Malik or Vivian (mostly the latter). He could climb over anything in sight within seconds but his companions could not; again, Vivian would most likely break a limb because a baby mountain goat showed more promise. Vivian felt something press against her left leg where she'd hidden two small items and smiled brightly as she dug inside her boot to fish them out. Since her pockets had been filled with precious Templar booty, she'd placed a parting gift from Amon in the second safest place in her wardrobe and revealed two familiar orbs that had been his trademark. She held the handy smoke bombs in the air as the two assassins had questions in their eyes about them and she declared mischievously, "Cloud cover will render them blind and both you and Malik can eliminate them. When in doubt, gas the enemy- with smoke, not farts."

The two men deadpanned into a dead zone to the latter words because nobody in their right mind would dare to try it.

"I hope those weren't stolen?" Altaïr commented flatly with restrained dismay to his partner's kleptomania and she pulled the small bombs away from his grasp when he sought them. Did he think so little of her?. . . Well, maybe- it was a huge upgrade from no. Yes, she hauled away anything that wasn't bolted down to the floor but stealing from a thief, especially a potential ally, was a huge no-no for Vivian. She knew better than to do that in real life whereas a game from Bethesda's company would have her running away to wait twenty-four hours only to return into the happy arms of the same residents that magically suffered amnesia.

"No, and say please like the dashing gentleman you are" she sniffed airily to his assumption and held them from his reach, her mauve lips stretching into a cheshire grin as she teased with mirth, "Goodness, you make me sound like I punched a baby chicken to get them."

"This is hardly the time to joke and I will make you say that word when I dangle you over the ravine by your foot like said chicken" Altaïr threatened with his most serious glare- aka 'The Evil Eye of Impending Doom'- to push her into relinquishing them and she handed them over with reluctance. It wasn't that she submitted to his demand but rather, their specific situation called for that necessity. He was slowly realizing that the glares that caused enemies to piss their pants were no longer working on the cheerful historian and would have to start pulling bluffs to get his way. Thankfully, the woman was too nice to ever be fully mad at him during a serious mission but the smoke bombs were incredibly handy to simply leave them in her care. He'd buy her a candy to make sure she didn't believe the standoffish attitude which would undoubtedly lead to another future glare adaptation to coax her into obedience- he could already foresee an endless cycle rearing its head.

She wiped sweat from her brow as the word chicken brought the strong power of suggestion to her mind and asked innocently with a quirky grin, "Can we buy chicken for dinner later? I bought a very nice marinade yesterday that's still fresh and I'm not about to let you cook again because salt is all you know. It's been four days and I can _still_ taste that beef cut you poured an entire bag of salt on, that stuff isn't cheap."

Altaïr was ready to bonk her on the head for continuing the jab on his cooking skills but found his stomach gurgling in response, leading him to state curtly, "Fine, you get the little wings and I get the whole breast. Malik, you get the leftovers."

Malik tried his hardest not to roll his eyes and aimed a deadpan expression to his friend for the callous imaginary dinner to sarcastically say, "Thank you, the grand master's approval _truly_ shines on me this day."

"Oh, a breast man, eh?" she chided cheekily with a cheesy grin that curled his hands into fists for falling so easily into that verbal trap. The audacity of her to utter an innocent word in such an adulterous way! She merely laughed into her hands like the old schoolgirl she'd been years ago and shook her hand to show she was finished with the joke for now since they had more important matters. Altaïr seriously began to formulate the idea of putting live chickens in her tent to greet her in the morning. Knowing her, she'd either be naming them or putting them in his.

"We can lure the group away and use that against them and the crevices of the ravine can hide you" Malik stated casually as he'd grown used to their spats, preferring this mode of playful chiding rather than the fierce attacks fit for feuding lions. He was glad they stopped talking about food because after all of their walking, burning under the sun, running through a pyramid, fighting in said pyramid, chasing bandits into the outpost, baking again as they returned to the pyramid and headed out. . . he was starving like a madman! If at all, _he_ deserved the breast of the chicken after what he'd endured the entire day.

"And I need a distraction to make sure they're led to the trap" Altaïr explained carefully as he tapped his chin in thought, pondering over the best way to grab his stolen goods and find an inn before nightfall. He wasn't fond of open spaces that lacked decent hiding spots because one misstep would lead to your discovery and Altaïr wasn't going to risk his life out here. Ugh, maybe he would need to alter his robes soon to adjust to the changing environment because traveling south where the land was fertile with forests would have his white robes sticking out like a camel in a horse stable.

Vivian smiled mischievously over his left shoulder like a pesky little shoulder devil and proposed to implement a decoy, "Men never say no to a lady in distress, they have to play hero for an ego stroke . . . that or rob her blind. Being a woman, I can keep them occupied with my womanly charms-"

"Or they can kill you" he stated dryly since not all men would stop at the sight of a woman . . . unless they haven't seen one in ages. Vivian was a foreigner and most men weren't allured with the exotic when a war was taking place against those same people because it could mean life and death if spies were about. If times were peaceful, yes, Vivian could catch a man's eye. . .well, at least with her appearance upon arriving. Her skin and hair had already undergone changes with the hot temperature and climate so a red-cheeked woman with dry lips, oily hair, and light tan lines wouldn't draw the masses like a natural Middle-Eastern or African woman would. He pressed the pad of his thumb in the center of her forehead, her sweaty skin causing it to slip down to the bridge of her nose as he pushed her head back and stated matter-of-factly, "Since your allure is atrocious."

"I got this, boss man, and Malik will be my partner" she assured with confidence since her personas had yet to fail against anyone and he needed a safe way inside. Jabbering nonsense and playing a part was nothing compared to extreme parkour and calculated killing strikes but they assured a straight path to his intended target. She might not be the most feminine but a big flashy smile went a long way when you couldn't display your legs or arms for fear of death, waving a hand in the air dismissively as she insisted, "Dressed up as pretty women, we'll keep their attention on us as we lead them astray to their doom."

This nabbed Malik's attention immediately because as far as he knew, he was 100% _male_. His head snapped to attention at lightning speed because acting was definitely a new arena for him, especially gender swapping, and wasn't keen on the idea at all. He was rather fond of his manliness and quite frankly, doubted he'd make a pretty woman because he was the average Joe of Syria with his build and appearance. He snapped his fingers quickly to jump into the conversation before the two flew into an argument on the danger and questioned in objection, "Wait! How am I going to pass as a woman? I lack a few . . . ahem . . . assets."

"It's nothing a few pieces of clothes won't fix . . . but you do need to shave as a safety measure" Vivian explained carefully with an apologetic smile since facial hair was a must and a sign of manhood in their era, leading him to withhold a painful woe. Malik's shoulders sunk instantly to playing another character- _two_ in one day! - and sighed regrettably under his breath because none of his training prepared him for this. He'd need a serious drink to drown the madness that would come next and hoped Giza carried a strong one because he'd be lamenting his face by the end of the day.

This was the first time Vivian witnessed Altaïr's freakishly frightening grin of excitement and scooted back to be blocked the sight of it. It was insane enough to fit a psychiatric ward patient displaying delusions of grandeur but sane enough to be charmingly delicious.

Where was the bowl of freezing cold arctic water when she sorely needed it?

* * *

"I've never felt more naked than I do now" Malik groaned miserably with woe as he touched his baby smooth chin and lamented his lost mustache and short beard as well. He felt like teenager waiting for his first mature hair all over again! He'd never had imagined that saving the word would demand that he shave but strange things happened whenever Altaïr was involved. Altaïr patted his back in sympathy for the loss but a smirk touched his lips to the humorous scene of his grumpy friend. Today was definitely not his day but it humored the grand master to see his friend display an emotion other than serenity and mild irritancy. Malik, however, didn't find it appealing in the slightest because he'd been rather attached to his polished appearance and stated grimly, "It's times like this that I wish I had my other arm so I could _strangle_ you for this plan."

"You're just cranky you had to shave" Altaïr dismissed airily with a short snort since 'If I had an arm' jokes had increased in popularity after Vivian implemented 'If I had a coin' for every jab Altaïr spouted. Their resident badger was currently fiddling with her robes behind their camel as she tried to find a safe but alluring style to fixate eyes away from their robed crusader. He wasn't about to dare a peek that would bring a scandalous sight that would forever be branded into his eyes and kept his sight on his friend, maintaining his gentlemanly manners.

Malik was ready with his retaliation because Altaïr failed to grow decent stubble or a mustache since their days as teenagers. Growing up together under Al Mualim's guidance at the same time had bonded the two as they reached the same stages of development and while Altaïr had reached his growth spurt first, Malik had won in facial hair. When they had been allowed the freedom to wander the village below the fortress, Malik had swaggered confidently with his new trait that exuded manliness to impress young women while Altaïr sulked on a nearby bench for merely having sparse hair on his upper lip. A decade later, Malik led the current argument that they'd had years ago when Altaïr whined that his 'hair growth' food diet wasn't working (a myth he fell prey to) and stated cheekily with a triumphant grin, "At least I can _grow_ facial hair."

Altaïr quickly defended his physical appearance to point out he had hair in distinct areas since he'd found his trademark style but Malik beat him to it by stating matter-of-factly, "Cat whiskers don't count. That excuse ran out five years ago."

"Pardon me if I don't want food clinging to my face" he shot back defensively since he was proud and protective of those 'whiskers' as he kept maintenance on it but Malik scoffed to his claim. That's what cloths were for when you ate, to make sure your face remained impeccable. Altaïr's eyes narrowed slightly as he felt the old taste of adolescent rivalry when he and Malik would use a metal shield to peer at their reflections to compare the changes after a hard week's worth of training, teasing each other and then doing the same to Kadar when he teased them.

"Please don't start a fight about how hair makes a man" Vivian intervened hastily before the two began hurling reasons from their mental lists and neatly pulled back the sleeves of her gray tunic to reveal her forearms to the elbow. It was the most she could do without making the cloth lumpy and uneven but it would add extra to the overall appearance. She wasn't about to go overboard with her tweaking because she wanted to appear attractive, not whorish, and wanted Malik to fiddle with his own clothes for his character since they didn't have costumes to spare due to their detour.

Time was ticking away and Altaïr wasn't having any sass from anyone, calling out sharply like the drill sergeant he was, "Are you ready?"

"It took a bit of altering but I'm about to reveal a level of skin that's never been seen so the 1190s won't know what hit them" Vivian grinned deviously to her crafty plan as she walked out without her hood, revealing her neck and the subtle shadow of her bosom as she adjusted the neckline to show an innocent peek that most modern day shirts had. It wasn't anything revealing for a woman of the 21st century but the country and era she was currently in would stone her for a little revealed skin (hopefully, blocking the sun with her concealing robes wouldn't give her too much of a vitamin D deficiency in the future). The cool breeze striking her bare forearms felt wonderful and raising the legs of her trousers to fold them into comfortable pedal-pushers took a load off from the unbearable heat the clothing contained after hours of movement and accumulated sweat. The two men stood astonished in their spot for the revealing outfit- well, to them- and Altaïr restrained himself from yelling for extra coverage. Goodness, he could see her _elbows!_ Women of their era didn't reveal anything past their clavicle area and Vivian broke the mandatory rule as bare upper arms and lower legs were visible like any girl of summertime in the 21st century.

She snapped her fingers to shift their eyes back up to her face rather than her exposed limbs and reminded firmly, "Hey, you're assassins, not men. Duty comes before hormones and all that glorious whatnot . . . otherwise, I never would've left Masyaf."

"At the current moment, I'm neither" Malik sighed woefully to his nude baby smooth face and groaned with immense regret when Vivian forced him to remove the leather belt around his waist. He'd never felt lesser of a man as he did now. She folded the red sash underneath the belt in half to give it a feminine flair and wrapped it higher to give the illusion of a womanly waist, causing him to groan miserably as his body shifted into a different gender. Altaïr merely watched with amber eyes fit for a clever fox as they glimmered with mischievous glee to his friend's torture, causing Malik's lips to thin into a straight line. If they did buy that chicken today, he would slap a handful of salt that would make Altaïr's eyes water and run for the river.

Vivian ignored the men's silent feud and briefly wondered how life would've been if Malik and Altaïr had been the opposite gender entirely. She was pretty sure Malik would be her best friend while Altaïr would throw hissy fits of epic proportions but the order had yet to use female assassins so their ranking would be low; their roles were muted for information gathering only due to society's norms. Living in the 1190's allowed Vivian to see why Maria ran off to the Templars where the only place that allowed her a sort of freedom to express herself, even if she had to impersonate a man in public for safety's sake. Her soul had been given life in the right place but at the wrong time and Vivian would've done the same to cast off the oppressive shackles, although her fancy was knowledge instead of the blade.

She used the red sash she'd looted from the dead Templar captain to wrap it around the lower half of Malik's face to give him ambiguous features, raising his hood over his head to cover up the fact that his hair was cut short like a man's. Women of this time grew it long to their waists and tied neatly on their head, a style that Vivian tried to mimic with her short strands that could barely make a decent bun. Quite frankly, with the enduring heat, she might just chop her hair shorter in the coming days. Malik's dark brows furrowed to the alterations, finding more freedom in his old robes and asked a question that had been plaguing his mind, "I don't have to alter my robes too, do I?"

"Nope, otherwise, the plan would fall apart when they realize your body has a whole different shape" she assured with a friendly sympathetic smile that relieved him immensely like a thirsty man finding a cold river and Vivian grabbed him by the arm to present her handiwork to Altaïr. For the first time in his life, he fought the laughter threatening to spill out of his throat as he gazed at the new Malik and managed a stiff nod as he bit his lips to keep them sealed. Malik couldn't slap his forehead in shame since she held the only arm he had and Vivian began to spin her background tale for him, "We'll say your suitor flew into a jealous rage and chopped your arm off when your village declared you the town beauty. You are a sweet mild mannered seamstress looking for true love..."

Malik groaned pathetically to having to disguise himself since Vivian had no qualms on switching genders in the slightest and she mulled over her own cover story with stars of passion in her eyes, "And I'm your sister, the harlot with unfortunate abandonment issues after our parents were horribly killed by bandits and is heading out to be a cook somewhere. Oh man, with this outfit and background, I'm practically a bad Mary Sue waiting to happen. What woman in her right mind would show skin and cleavage in this era, not to mention continent?"

Altair hid his laughter with a snort but having her on the team had definitely helped to balance their plans when a woman's touch was required (he preferred her brainy schemes) as he snickered, "What ill-gotten man would deny that?"

"Exactly, the most unbelievable characters that would make normal people barf and attract disgusting evildoers like a bear to honey" she grinned impishly with a soft clap of her hands and nodded to the man to begin their plan, surprised with herself that a part was eager to begin. She blamed it on the humorous acting part of the mission because fighting to the death and the small or sight of blood was not something she'd grown comfortable with. She tapped her forehead with her fingers in the classic salute to show her full attention and smiled confidently to pipe up, "Ready when you are, Cap."

He grasped her right wrist to prevent her scurrying off with Malik, forcing her to stand in front of him, and privately asked with a low tone, "Are you sure you can handle this? Your encounter with the bandits was only a few days ago and you might relapse emotionally- this could endanger you."

"I'm a tough cookie, I'm learning from you each day" she dismissed easily as she tried not to dwell on it, thumping her chest lightly with her fist to show her commitment. Sure, she might not have his strength and finesse but she'd give a 100% commitment of all she had in that brain of hers to make sure he landed at that finish point. He didn't know whether to admire her resolve or worry she'd become too loyal.

Loyal follower or not, he wasn't going let her rampage headfirst into a fray she wasn't ready for and insisted firmly with a stern expression, "You don't need to do this for my sake-"

"I need to be able to survive here, tests will always present themselves and this is just another" she reasoned simply with a small smile as he jabbed her vulnerabilities with his leadership but he had a job to do and she could help him finish it faster. He couldn't watch over her like a babysitter and there was no way she'd become a liability so it was time to start kicking bandit butt in her own way- by embarrassing herself and confounding enemies with her riddles. She clapped him on the bicep to assure him she'd make him proud with her outrageous ways and promised with a gentle smile, "You can count on me, sir. Not even an arrow to the knee will stop me."

And so, Altaïr began moving the pieces of his plan like pieces on a chessboard.

* * *

Vivian practiced her hip swaying to work out rusty kinks as they walked towards the checkpoint where the lookouts were stationed to clear them away by distraction while Altaïr moved in undetected by using the overhead canyon paths. Malik practiced his female laughter but mentally cried as he stabbed the dignity of being a man with a sharp rusty sword as his voice became high-pitched in a falsetto. Nope, he would _not_ be sounding like a sweet low-tone woman that could lure the masses and would leave the rest to Vivian.

"Laugh randomly to attract them if they get suspicious but let me do the talking so you can keep that mysterious aura" she smiled encouragingly and let loose a loud laugh that echoed off the walls of the canyon to alert anyone nearby that they weren't alone. Altaïr followed them from above on the rocky paths that extended throughout the canyon, keeping himself well concealed from sight as they headed north towards the cave. Vivian didn't cease her chatter or the volume to make sure she was heard by both the enemy and Altaïr for detection as she declared with feigned sadness, "Dear me, I can't believe we're lost, Milika."

_Milika?_, Altair laughed mentally to the name as her voice echoed throughout the area and could see a group of four men on the ground heading their way already to scope out the intruders. Her voice had become quite loud and wondered how loud the little badger could shriek to draw attention- he might upgrade her to a harpy. Once they passed him, he wasted no time in dispatching any scouts posted on the canyon paths without a single detection to his stealthy footing. The Templars sought temporary allies that would help them get what they sought, uncaring to the fodder they handed over to the assassins since they only looked out for their order only. With their forces spread thin in Africa, he assumed they were recruiting just about anyone after the losses in the Third Crusades because these thieves hardly gave a fight.

Malik and Vivian made idle chat as they drew attention from the approaching men that had headed out to find what all the rucks was about. Yep, those were the very same men in gray and brown garb that stole her handy pack right from her hands! Vivian played the sickeningly sweet and oblivious civilian as she waved them over, plastering a wide smile on her face as she called out with dramatic relief, "Greetings, my sister and I are utterly lost in this endless desert. It's been two days since we've seen anyone."

Of course, the lecherous laughs and looks they received immediately had Vivian ready to barf and on the defense (she _was_ a woman, after all) while Malik hid his mental tears at being seen that way by his own gender. Ugh, he felt so unclean and craved a warm comforting bath immediately. Vivian leaned closer to his side and rubbed his back gently to encourage him to keep the farce together since they'd played their acts well many times. This one was a little different and she tried to restrain a grimace when one with stained teeth asked slyly, "What are you beautiful ladies doing all the way out here?"

Vivian bit back the tart reply that she'd already stated it but held back by laughing loudly with feigned glee, "Oh, they think we're beautiful, isn't that nice? We're heading to Giza to find our brother, Ahmad. My sister lost her arm to a jealous suitor a few months back due to her unbelievable beauty-"

"She does have beautiful skin" one of the thieves in the back commented since humorously enough, Malik's smooth skin gave his natural hue a handsome glow that drew most women to him instead of Altaïr. It was a subject they chided the master assassin on when he demanded answers from women and they scuttled off for refuge while Malik drew them in appearance and demeanor. How could Vivian _not_ try to play matchmaker with him?

Malik coughed awkwardly because this was not the kind of attention he wanted, shamefully waving a hand to show his fake thanks before giggling. Vivian rubbed his back with sympathy since she knew he was suffering internally as an ulcer began to form in the poor man's gut and caught a hint of white descending from the canyon wall. His robes contrasted against the sandy and brown colored sedimentary wall, leading Vivian to step forward to seize their attention solely on her to make sure nobody spotted the crazy Spiderman climbing down. Heh, she could already imagine a tiny white cartoon spider declaring 'I'll smite you' in his voice. She arched her right shoulder to raise it for a little dash of feminine allure, holding back a wince when her shoulder blade disagreed with the move and smiled charmingly, "Is there any way you could help us?"

"Why don't you follow us to camp and we'll help, little ladies" the head honcho of the group suggested and flicked his thumb back to where the rest were, drawing an eager smile from Vivian. Yes, she would very much like that because they'd robbed her of her hard earned loot and Malik of his sophisticated manliness- not to mention Altaïr's artifact. That alone had shifted him into a relentless Terminator mode that put all other Terminators to shame.

Vivian resisted the impulse of rolling her eyes to their crappy Neanderthal-like pickup lines, feeling ashamed for sharing the planet with such people, and noticed Altaïr was pressed up against the wall to her left. If the men turned, they would catch him in the blink of an eye due to the lack of boulders and wouldn't dare risk the plan. She caught his fingers motioning for her to move out of the way since he was ready to spring one of the bombs on the thieves while their backs were turned. Malik followed his order and feigning a sudden groan of pain that sounded horribly feminine in his voice, fell down on his butt to appear believable with half-closed eyes as he declared unsurely, "My, I feel faint from the endless walk."

"Let me help you, sister" Vivian piped up quickly before anybody else dared to move forward and as both ducked, Altaïr shrouded the field in gray as he used one of the bombs by throwing it with precise calculation. He wasted no time in taking advantage of their frazzled confusion when the men began shouting in alarm and he drove his hidden blade into the back of a thief's skull where the bone met the first cervical vertebrae to cause instant death as he severed the spine completely. His other hand whipped out his crossbow, not wasting a single second of his stamina, and he pierced the next man with an arrow in the heart since his reach wouldn't have allowed his blade to close the distance. Years of endless practice had molded him into a relentless foe at close range when striking enemies and bandits were easy targets most of the time. Making out the flapping arm of another through the shroud, he stabbed the man in the center of the chest to bring a swift death and used the front of his crossbow to pull him down onto the ground. Malik and Vivian stayed rooted to their spots to prevent being caught in the crossfire and she grinned mischievously through closed eyes to prevent burning vision, "Malik, you have an actor ready to burst from you."

"I'd rather keep it locked away and let you handle this" he replied with his normal voice, clearing his throat softly to remove the uncomfortable scratchiness left behind when switching tones. He was born to be an assassin, not the impish deceiver Vivian could be by being a very convincing decoy, and would call this his retirement from the acting business. It was so much easier to play an ordinary husband or relative from town to town rather than flamboyant characters that Vivian seemed to thrive on.

Altaïr kept his hearing open, depending heavily upon it (his eagle vision couldn't pierce it) until the smoke cloud cleared and spotted his two companions on the floor. Vivian opened her eyes to find a field of death around her as all the thieves failed to breathe or move and once again, facing the stealthy hand of death itself as the assassin before her had played executioner without mercy. To a gaming fan, he was the pinnacle of what human strength could leave in its wake as his robes billowed in the wind with an aura of mystery but to her, he was a dedicated man who had just cut down human beings once more for the greater good. It wasn't hard to see the distinct lines of black and white of what happened to allies of both groups and the gray, well, Vivian didn't know what to say about that part yet. She felt she was smack in the middle of it, slowly immersing herself in that ocean with cautious feet due to her lack of fighting skills. One thing, however, was clear: her hand was aligned with Altaïr despite not being one of his people or a person of his era.

Altaïr broke into her pensive thoughts as he snapped his fingers to get her moving, keeping a keen eye on her reactions to make sure she wasn't falling into old memories. Her eyes had glazed lightly at the bleeding corpses around them and if there was one thing that woke her up instantly, it was a smartass jab, "Don't tell me the powder deafened and blinded you, petite historian."

She hissed with the ferocity of a wet cat to the comment and stood up to clean herself, causing Altaïr to smirk as it worked like a charm. Good, that was the little spitfire that he was used to and would make sure to keep that flame alight until their job was finished.

"What next?" Malik asked warily as he eyed the canyon walls with mistrust, expecting them to spit out enemies since they were in the open and had no getaway camels nearby. They were vulnerable targets in case anyone heard them and being an assassin, Malik was accustomed to areas with hiding spaces or climbable walls that wouldn't lead to an arrow in the back (given his lack of a second arm).

"Lost little ladies do indeed distract while I decimate their numbers from behind" Altaïr stated simply to keep their charade going since nobody would be heading their way without meeting them first and looked in the direction of the camp. The thieves were fourteen in total and Altaïr had just dispatched four on the ground and two scouts from above, leaving eight men back at camp. They were the last group standing in their way but he had to be careful in not alerting the thieves to their presence or things could quickly escalate into trouble. Three people against a small group were already at a disadvantage, even with him as their stealthy powerhouse, and he looked to the canyon walls for the next phase, "I need to verify the number waiting for us back there, wait for my signal to continue."

Vivian motioned with a wave of her hand for him to spit out the form of the signal before someone happened upon them to blow their plan right out of the water and he answered casually, "Bird call."

"Don't know if birds are popular here, you should've gone coyote" she mumbled wryly to his chosen signal since a pigeon would be quite a sound in the middle of nowhere and received a death glare for being questioned. Okay, don't mess with the blade wielding man in the middle of an awesomely glorious mission. She raised her hands innocently to lower the intensity of the nuclear bomb in front of her and muttered flatly under her breath, "Jeez, don't melt me with your glare power."

Apparently, the man was not one to use the suggestion box.

* * *

The next stage came into play as they kept up the 'lost ladies in the desert' ruse despite Malik's horribly cracking voice and the 'women' drew the attention of the remaining thieves at camp by simply barging in with their innocently sweet personas. Of course, acting lost and in need of help- the classically clichéd damsel in distress mode- drew undivided attention from the thieves as Vivian played herself the sap by believing they were spice salesmen due to their (stolen) goods and kept an eye on each of the bags. Of course, she stirred the conversation away from their sudden appearance by prattling that she was starving for cheese after the long walk through the desert and proceeded to eat quite a few wedges without asking to nab all of their attention. Malik had quickly reminded her they weren't there for cheese when she finished all of their stash, ending her diversion, and that prompted her to draw attention with her skits- starting with outlandish stories of adventure.

The hilarious irony, to Altaïr anyway (as he crept overhead), was that the men paid more attention to Malik in his fake 'meek woman' getup than Vivian. His assumption had hit the nail straight in the board but that wasn't to say Vivian was hideous to everybody else- just second best to Malik (he would taunt her with this later on). Apparently, his tall height and build made him perfect for farm work and domesticating animals- not to mention, tending to a husband. Given Malik's ethnicity, his familiar physical appearance was more attractive than Vivian's foreign pale shade as a woman. Before Malik popped a brain vessel and stabbed all of the men for daring to place him into general labor, Vivian drew their gazes away from the fuming dai by dancing and singing one of her random songs to allow Altaïr time to slice everyone to pieces. That, and Malik looked ready to kill a few men if she didn't step in but it wasn't the dai's fault he was attractive in either gender.

"Now, keep your eyes on _me_ and clap loudly to entertain yourselves!" she enticed cheerfully with a dazzling smile to make sure nobody would look behind to the ledge above them where Altaïr had just eliminated their last two scouts. Well, two down, six more to go. Malik drew their eyes in one fantastically single move by wagging his brows and clapping towards Vivian with encouragement, leading the men like a master puppeteer. It was times like this that she was glad the subtlest of movements were considered flirting in that part of the world. Hopefully, the dead bodies wouldn't twitch and fall over the ledge to drop behind them during the entertainment.

She needed all of them to keep their focus on her while Altaïr picked them off one by one, his mind ready to craftily use the bags of loot to replace the bodies because man's attention span in this era wasn't very long. After all, they'd chosen to be thieves . . . he'd keep that last comment to himself because Amon would undoubtedly throw him out of Giza for daring to stereotype him. Quietly and carefully, the assassin snuck down the canyon wall behind the men as they were entranced by the woman's strange (really strange) dancing to creep up towards his first kill.

"_On a tropical island,  
Underneath a molten lava moon.  
Hangin' with the hula dancers,  
Askin' questions cause' they got all the answers  
Puttin' on lotion! Sittin' by the ocean!  
Rubbin' it on my body! Rubbin' it on my body!"_

Altaïr almost slapped his forehead to her horrid dancing skills as she swayed her hips like a person using a hoola-hoop and smiled goofily with her hands in the air to imitate a graceful Hawaiian dancer. Unfortunately, she resembled a reject that held none of those fluid movements and Altaïr found no alluring traits in it- not that he intended to. By the heavens, the woman held no grace in her form and resisted from sighing heavily with wonder to _where_ her era went wrong in producing that little badger. It was. . .it left him completely speechless and flabbergasted!

Nonetheless, it allowed him to kill the first man efficiently with a strike to the heart from behind with his hidden blade and lowered the tally by one count. He performed a class but fancy Indiana Jones move as he replaced the body with a sack of loot while his friends concentrated on. . .really, the thieves found her hip gyrating interesting? Had he really lost touch with the common man?

_Get me out of this ca-a-a-ve,  
'cause it's nothing but a gladiator gra-a-a-ve.  
And if I stick to the pla-a-a-n,  
I think I'll turn into a lava woma-a-a-n.  
I think I'll turn into a lava woman!"_

Malik simply encouraged the loud clapping and obnoxious hooting while keeping an eye on the slithering assassin that struck with the dexterity of a viper behind each man that sat in their random spots. Underneath the red sash covering his face, Malik smirked pleasantly to each that went down because being leered at was the worst feeling in the universe and promised himself to NEVER commit such with the fairer gender. He would make certain nobody turned around to find his friend and playfully waved a hand to the group since they were fascinated with 'Milika'.

"_One, Two, Three O'clock, Four O'clock rock,  
Five, Six, Seven O'clock, Eight O'clock rock  
Nine, Ten, Eleven O'clock, Twelve O'clock rock  
We're gonna rock around the sundial tonight."_

Two more bit the dust and it strengthened Vivian's singing resolve since they were almost finished with this ridiculous chase, leading her to hop in place perkily. With Altaïr playing the silent phantom of death, she'd be his deceiving imp that lured enemies to their demise for a safer world where she'd eat endless mountains of cheese and sleep easier while he. . . hmm, she'd no idea what the assassin liked. He was always so quiet in demeanor when they weren't sharing jabs that she never bothered to ask his interests or hobbies when he wasn't on a job. Did Altaïr have such freedom with his hectic life or had he abandoned the simple things in life in order to bring peace to mankind? It was a sorrowful thought for a man that sacrificed a normal life and she almost slipped up on her lyrics as she watched him move gracefully in the background but continued her task.

"_Put your iconic tunics on and join me for fun,  
We'll be under the sun when the sundial strikes one._

_We're gonna rock around the sundial tonight_  
_We're gonna rock, rock, rock, 'till broad daylight_  
_We're gonna rock around the sundial tonight._  
_When the sundial strikes two, three and four,_  
_If the orchestra slows down, we'll yell for more."_

Malik found himself surprised that the men didn't realize that 80% of the thieves were now impostor loot sacks with garments slapped on for appearance's sake. The last two were almost a pity kill for Altaïr because they failed to realize a dangerous man was creeping about but maybe the men had gone long enough without female interaction to care. He was grateful his self-control was unyielding like a mountain's because he'd have made a pretty bad assassin if he chased every skirt that crossed his line of sight. One thing was for sure as he stabbed the first man in the jugular: Vivian would _never_ sing and dance in their camp for the sake of his sanity.

"_When the sundial ticks to five, six, and seven,  
We'll be right in seventh heaven.  
When it's eight, nine, ten, eleven too,  
I'll have fled and you'll be dead."_

As she finished that altered line, Altaïr pounced on the leader from behind and the hidden blade pierced the lower chambers of his heart as it broke through the vertebrae of his spine. It was a quick death but required a lot of force to ensure it was instant. Vivian stopped her giddy dancing since she couldn't have timed that any better and smiled proudly to the accomplished task, glad that they were all in one piece and in the middle of a looting zone. Her skin broke into goosebumps as the adrenaline remained in her system and thanked those handy hormones for keeping her resolve steady since she'd gone straight into the lion's den without her handy walking stick.

She eyed the dead with a sympathetic eye because her era didn't cause humanity to resort to this- well, maybe not the _majority_- but it was still a somber scene to witness. Poverty and war changed a person for better or worse and unfortunately, the thieves landed in the bad side of the road. These weren't sights that she could easily assimilate into her new life but she'd better hop onto the wagon because Altaïr would be plowing through enemies for the rest of his life on that same bandwagon so she'd better hang on for the ride. Altaïr didn't flinch at all to the common sight since he'd acclimated over the years and merely commented with a casual tone as he glanced at a nearby corpse, "This battle went better than anticipated- more infiltration, less offense."

"You know what the sad thing about this is?" Vivian murmured softly as she passed the nearest sack that held cloth bindings in the form of a hat and couldn't help but smile at Altaïr's personal touch. Hmm, maybe she was rubbing off on him because the sacks would've looked hilarious with charcoal drawn smiley faces on them. She could never imagine the stoic and formidable Altaïr as a humorous man, his sense of humor more akin to dry wit or logical dismay but even that gave him that human edge Vivian tried to find in him.

Altaïr wiped his hidden blade clean on the dead man's tunic without a care that he was dead because they'd stolen what was rightfully his in the first place and could've avoided this entire scenario. Why did people not surrender when they clearly saw no way out? That and taking what honest hard working people earned? He looked to Vivian for a brief second as he headed over to the stolen bags to rip them open to search for their items, his fingers digging into each and supplied his own guess, "That this whole thing could've been avoided by never allying themselves with the Templars?"

"No, that I didn't get to show them my magic tricks in the next act" she pouted humorously with a feigned sigh as she threw an origami bird made from papyrus from her hand and Altaïr quirked an eyebrow as it flew away with the wind current flowing through the canyon. Honestly, the woman was downright insane sometimes (Vivian failed to tell him that it was the only one she could make) and watched the strange creation flutter away to disappear who knows where. For all of her insane plots, she proved her word true in the end with her successes and he'd train her to begin building her defense skills once they were on the road again. She grabbed one of the bags he'd finished sorting through as it yielded nothing of theirs and hoisted it over her left shoulder with a giddy grin to pipe up with relief, "Oh, and that they didn't know just how close to real power but better that we deal with the ignorant than the smart."

"Some would say that the ignorant can be more deadly than a cunning mind" Malik quipped cleverly since a weapon was the same in inexperienced hands and ripped the red cloth away from his face to breathe easier. He could understand why Vivian refused to wear the thing during the hot daytime when it would aid suffocation under the sun and used it to wipe away any perspiration from his forehead, stuffing it in his pocket afterwards. Templar clothing or not, it would be worth a trade at least. His getup was quickly rearranged back to his old male-fitted robes, making sure it would be perfect before they wandered back to civilization because he was not looking for any suitors.

"So what do we do with the mummy loot?" she questioned brightly and wondered if Egyptian curses rang true here as well because she wasn't going to risk catching one. Her luck in life had already landed her in chaotic times with a cranky assassin from an alternate dimension, the logical reason still eluding her, and wasn't going to risk anything worse on her already full plate. They could return it all to the pyramid but what if looters decided to head in when they realized there were no guards? She smiled with delight when Altaïr handed her the small leather knapsack that had been stolen from her hands and flung it over her back with sheer happiness for the reunion, adding in, "Not that I wouldn't mind a little extra but magical curses is where I draw the line in stealing. Oh, what I would give to be in the wild west of my country! I could loot and nobody would know due to the awful lack of technology."

"You and Malik will return this to the official of administration here, we do not need Egypt's vizier to know of what transpired" Altair explained calmly because assassins didn't meddle in politics or involved themselves in affairs with treasure or money. He'd leave the job to the better suited members of the team since his appearance and grim demeanor wouldn't have people cheering 'huzzah' for it. Also, he did blow up that town center in the village and didn't want to bring attention to himself if they were looking. The matter could settled later after they finished their mission so they could finally leave the land to head south and informed his team, "But first, we must return to the pyramid to delve deeper. There was something in the Queen's chamber and I intend to find out."

Altaïr ransacked every bag until he found that small cloth pouch that held the familiar round artifact, quickly untying the twine strings to open it for unveiling. All three breathed in glorious relief when the round silver object with its alien golden glow of unknown symbols met their gazes, their mission reaching completion. Altaïr pocketed the item inside one of the breast pockets of his robes, sliding it between the lining of the last layer of cloth to protect it and ordered with a calmer voice that had been gone hours prior, "Let's go."

Vivian kicked the nearest corpse on the leg to pent out the disgusting taste on her tongue from the leers and lecherous words, taunting with a thin lipped frown, "That's for thinking you could have your way with me and poor Malik, asshole. Not to mention, having my little pack stolen from me after my hard earned hours of looting."

"Don't remind me" Malik gagged with disgust as a shudder ran through him because he'd definitely dodged his share of grabby hands since entering the camp. One day, he would find himself a good woman to call his dearest wife and never have grabby hands lest he remember the horror of this day. If she bore him daughters, he would chase away the suitors with a sharp pristine sword to protect the innocence of his precious girls and only let them marry until they were thirty. . .or possibly until he died.

"I think he was spared the horror" the master assassin snorted sarcastically and dodged a punch to the face by both insulted parties since he hadn't endured their torture. Malik made a mental note for the future that if Altaïr ever had children around the same age range as his, he'd hurl himself off a cliff before becoming family at a wedding union for their betrothed children.

"You wouldn't know how to handle me, I know things men aren't supposed to see or figure out for centuries, pal" she mocked snippily in retaliation and walked away with her head held high despite the pink tinting her cheeks at actually saying that aloud. In reality, she knew absolutely _nothing_ of the romantic life due to her hermitic studious lifestyle but Altaïr didn't need to know that. She and Malik needed a winning hand once in a while so why not?

"Part of me is both wary and intrigued about that" Malik commented uncertainly about the strange ways of the future and Altaïr shook his head with dismay because this was their time. They didn't need to concern themselves with the future because they were writing it themselves at the current moment, practically doing the work for their descendants (he'd roll over in his grave if they turned out lazy). Well, not really, but Altaïr wanted a little commendation as he watched the petite badger strut away with her fat bags of loot in tow.

"Don't give her more ammunition" Altaïr muttered grimly to his friend in warning since she was already a strange little imp to begin with and yelled an order to Vivian, "Go put some clothes on, woman, I can see your _knees_. You're embarrassing yourself!"

"It's a character costume, it gives me the _full_ right to look embarrassingly ghastly" she shouted back to defend her outrageous outfit (well, in their era) but scuttled off quickly to lower the fabric back into the comfortable tunic and pants. Even if the outfit was completely normal in her century where she dressed like this on an average warm day with a blouse and shorts, the twelfth was slowly working its way into her lifestyle. She actually felt a little modest for baring her legs and called it a small success as Altaïr's lectures finally began to drill into her head- not that she'd admit it aloud. As she exited to change behind a boulder big enough to conceal her, she made her next move in their verbal chess game by retorting, "What's your excuse?"

Malik chuckled behind his hands because he needed a good laugh after being forced to shave off his facial hair and Altaïr frowned under his hood, approving of her jab nonetheless, "Well played, badger."

* * *

As they left the empty canyon behind with their loot in tow, the trio rode their steeds back to the pyramid to finish what they'd started- even if it took all night. Malik and Vivian had returned to their original garb because they wouldn't dare risk returning to the outpost looking atrociously unkempt in appearance and breaking every rule in society because they had to find an inn for the night. Malik's immaculately straight posture had slumped somewhat during the ride as he lamented his lost beard since it was all maintenance work until he was older and could grow a handsomely rugged beard to boast over Altaïr's cat whiskers. Vivian encouraged him to patiently regrow the hair because with his looks, he could pull it off but Altaïr. . .he'd look like a mean white-garbed Santa Claus.

She gazed at the orange African sunset over the sandy dunes, amazed by the beauty of its simplistic nature as the setting sun would outlast all of them on Earth. Against that mighty star, her time and Altaïr's was a tiny speck in comparison to its life cycle. The colors would be the envious dream of any artist and the lack of modern civilization's lights to subdue the glittering diamond stars that innocently peeked out from above brought a fond smile to her exhausted face, "Isn't it stunning?"

"If you expect me to reenact any heroic or romantic scene with you, I will throw you down this sand dune" he replied flatly because he wasn't about to be pulled into another of her performing stories to play the hero, eager to leave the desert behind. He'd seen sunsets many times during his travels but never paused long enough to see it from start to finish, sparing the orange-lilac horizon a quick glance for his lack of attention throughout the years. Hmm, not bad. Nature was indeed astounding when one was patient enough to relish its simple artistry and admitted casually with a small nod of agreement while guiding the camel, "Aside from that, it does have that quality."

Vivian blew a raspberry to his first statement because they weren't going to reenact Gone with the Wind or Titanic scenery and retorted sarcastically, "I don't want to run off with you into the sunset. If I had that choice, it would be with Garrus Vakarian. He's got the 'Batman/Alien Husband Potential' every girl gamer wants, he can get you romantic vigilante wine and shoot a guy between the eyes-"

"Enough!" Altaïr yelled across the desert because he'd had enough of these fictional characters she adored and he resisted from growling exasperatedly at the wind when she cowered behind him. The mighty unforgiving eagle had frightened the fight out of the badger, forcing her to huddle in her underground nest to avoid another lashing. Each of his actions warranted a negative response he wasn't aiming for and didn't want the poor woman to huddle in fear of him again after the progress they'd made. Well, she was still the same but he'd promised to be . . .ugh. . . more open-minded about her time traveling trauma and released a reluctant sigh from his lips to murmur quietly, "I'm just irritated to the day's events, it's not you."

"I was trying to make you feel better by yammering about something _not_ related to our mission" she admitted quietly since she could sense the tension rolling off of him in waves and wanted him to be in tiptop shape when they arrived at the pyramid. None of them knew what to expect and she'd wanted to focus his mind elsewhere so he wouldn't have to worry about everything throughout the ride; the man needed a peaceful moment. Apparently, witty retorts lit the fuse faster on the bomb dwelling inside him and wished that she knew a thing or two about weapons so she could make interesting conversations. If there was one thing Altaïr didn't hesitate to discuss openly, it was weaponry; she was certain a smithy lived inside that man.

Altaïr held out his olive branch of friendship once more and although he'd probably regret this by the end, requested calmly, "Why don't you regale us with 'Vivian's fun facts'?"

This put a smile on her face faster than hot chocolate on a winter day and she smiled ecstatically to follow that order, "Number one, ants do not sleep. I was quite astounded by this myself since we all need a little shut-eye. Two, having a crooked nose in ancient Rome was considered a sign for leadership. . .neither of us would've been very popular, except maybe you Altaïr. You have quite the prettiest little bump on the bridge of an otherwise very straight nose- why are you glaring at a _compliment_? Oh, fine!"

She shook her head to his strange logic and tsundere moment because a polite 'thank you' had been infused in her personality but maybe he wasn't accustomed to hearing them often, especially outside of his profession. Had anyone ever told him it was great that he could read and write like a man born into high society? That he could clean his clothes better than she could? That he caught the biggest fish without trying and picked the juiciest quails when hunting? She was surprised his self-esteem didn't suffer through his development because training endlessly to be the best probably forced him to earn compliments by fighting for each, a factor that could've played into his arrogance and downfall. You couldn't blame the man that had been molded to be a perfect soldier from the very beginning but his redemption quest had allowed for him to learn the virtues that his perceived grandeur couldn't. He'd found the honorable man hidden under that narcissism, not to mention a monumental truth that shattered his rules on trusting others, and was slowly finding his way to being both wise man and warrior. She just couldn't help but chuckle impishly and leaned over his right shoulder, catching a glimpse of that handsome nose as the hood covered his face and teased, "And you have the cutest kitten whiskers-"

Malik laugh echoed in the desert as she used his previous joke and watched the tip of Altaïr's sun-kissed nose tint red, knowing that a reprimand was forthcoming but she rubbed his warm back in friendly apology as she continued her fun facts, "Three, High Priests in ancient Egypt were the only ones who would wear cotton clothing so no wonder they flowed breezily through the streets like a Calvin Klein model. Four. . ."

If women in his area of the world were allowed to publish books, he was certain Vivian would've drawn a few readers with her quirky 'fun facts' or fictional tales. Well, at least she was smiling after everything she'd witnessed today so he called that an accomplishment because her heart would have to grow stronger to bear the continuous fights that would follow.

The fingers of his right hand briefly trailed down the bridge of his nose to outline its shape, taking notice for the first time that maybe. . .his appearance wasn't as shabby as he believed it to be. And. . .he might just grow that short beard just to show Malik he wasn't a prepubescent boy.

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**A/N**: My goodness, the heat has been unbearable in my city for the past weeks (still is) but I had to get this little number out because I want to get the group to leave Giza, which they will in the next chapter, since they've been there forever chapter-wise. I'll be using the Ankh POE for Altaïr and although Ubisoft produced a comic for that POE, I'm shifting it in my story since it's already been written. Also, I don't like the fact that the Ones Who Came Before are all named after Roman gods since they debunk all known religions in the franchise so I'd like to think there were others of their kind who were gods and goddesses for other people worldwide throughout history. To wrap that all up, Isis will not be a human who wielded the ankh but one of those beings that decided to mate with a human and used the ankh to resurrect him.

I've also been wondering whether to raise the rating of the story to mature because despite the adventure, AC is a mature franchise and Altaïr's Templar killing might surpass the Teen rating. _What do you guys think?_

Thanks for the alerts and reviews, I love reading the feedback for the story and any ideas are welcome for our adventuring trio since I want you guys happy on this ride.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Vivian's a little imp on Altaïr's shoulders as she pushes his buttons but also tries to help him with any issues Malik can't offer guidance on. I can already imagine his nagging when he starts teaching her the basics on defense to keep herself safe on the journey. I can already see her imitating Ezio's moves and falling flat on her face while Altaïr rethinks on simply handing her a fat book to chuck at Templars. Altaïr might hate the future but it's given him a few handy tips to get him out of a scuffle- not that he'd admit it to Vivian, who'd cheer and unload a humongous ramble on the different types of fight styles in the modern world.

_Discofreak1029_: Lol. I like using a lot of game, book, movie, TV, and other humorous references due to Vivian's personality style.

_ihas no clue_: The AC franchise has a serious atmosphere, even with Ezio's charismatic personality (oh man, how I'm going to miss it. T_T), so Vivian will be cutting the tension somehow with her remarks. I'm glad I can make you laugh because I've certainly made myself choke on a few of the chapters I've written- womanly functions and Altaïr don't mix well together.

_Polinka123_: I'm so glad when the readers pick up an inaccuracy I've missed along the way to correct that little blemish. It's so good Wikipedia has the facts on food ingredients but not when dishes came into existence.

_KrnYong_: Don't worry, Vivian will find her new Buttercup when they leave Kenya to travel on land and give Altaïr a heart attack when she drives. Yeah, she's definitely pushed the boundaries on touching since she'd be hurled out of town for touching a man but Altaïr has been a sweetheart by reasoning it's in her futuristic personality. He won't dare to touch her unless it's to protect her so we'll know when our dear assassin begins to form his affection for the brainy Vivian. You could always YouTube the scenes for Revelations, I pretty much wanted it to see how Altaïr's life ended (ugh, I refuse to kill off Maria and Malik like they did) and Ezio's as well. I found myself very surprised how Ezio's wife reminds me of Vivian (she even has the green eyes, lol), leading me to smile like a Cheshire cat and glad I didn't name her Sofia because that was supposed to be her original name in the story so I dodged an awkward bullet there. As for the Masyaf keys, they basically held important pieces of Altaïr's memory for Ezio to find and discover the Apple of Eden under Masyaf. Best hilarious moment of the game: Ezio imitates a bard to gain entrance into a party and sings.

_xVentressx_: I didn't get the rest of the review but thanks for it, nonetheless.

_Lonerwolf1015_: Malik is absolutely divine; I really liked his character and grumbled when they didn't bring him back in the rest of the games so I had to have him in this story. For the necklace, I've avoided it for now but will bring it back as well as her journal entries and Altaïr's codex. Their back-to-back adventuring in Giza hasn't left them much time to relax since they've been killing Templars at the inns and being abandoned by wagon rides so they'll be happy to sleep off everything once they leave Giza. I'm glad to have you along for this story as well, I hope to update my Avatar story afterwards but have like 25 pages to quickly edit through. Thank you so much for loving my writing style, I love humor the most but romance always springs in for the characters in my fanfics- characters need believably logical love. I hope the tips helped in creating your story and wish you the best as a fellow fanfiction author.

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**Next Time**: _The Mother of Egypt_

"Ilias, look at my recent accomplishment" Bashir's jubilant voice popped in as he approached him from the right, passing by all of the students gathering around Rauf's training circle, and the assassin hoped it wouldn't be a bomb of sorts that would explode on them. Or worse, poison.

He turned to find the inventor wielding Rafiki on a thick leather glove on his left hand, the bird quietly preening his feathers. For the past weeks, Bashir had been adamant in gaining the falcon's respect since he valued having fingers and wanted to prove to his grand master that he'd done his job splendidly. He'd even tried to take the bird on an assassination but the blasted falcon decided to peck at him when it was time to enter the city, reminding the young assassin to blend in with the scholars. Rafiki swore in his avian mind that it was like watching Altaïr in his teen years all over again since Bashir had years to attain his master rank unlike the gifted grand master. After many tries and failures, Bashir managed to subdue the bird by speaking to him as an equal and offering food for its finicky palate. Quite frankly, he wasn't surprised with the bird's attitude because it matched Altaïr's.

"Did you finally allow him to cater to you?" Ilias asked with light humor on his Israeli features and Bashir began to answer but realized he was staring directly at the bird. Wait, what just happened? The young inventor merely blinked in bewilderment and the assassin chuckled deeply to his expression, explaining with an amused smirk, "Only Altaïr can tame the bird, the rest fall under his authority. You, my friend, just became his wagon."

Bashir groaned miserably to the fact and aimed a questioning gaze at the bird for clarification, who innocently glanced away to avoid the matter. Hmm, that bird was smarter than he gave him credit for. All three, however, stood at attention when the guards at the gate beckoned Ilias to come forward. That was odd. The only times he was required were for visitors, which were usually sent away due to their secret headquarters, or impending danger. With brisk steps, he descended the walkways past Rauf and his students with Bashir on his tail as Rafiki flapped his wings to order that he follow.

If danger approached their fortress or any of his assassins on assignments, he would deploy forces with the same battle strategies he and Altaïr had often discussed in case such an event arose while he was away. He came to the closed metal gate that separated their sanctuary from the outside world as two guards stood on either side with incredulous expressions and looked to find. . .

A woman.

Her features were of English descent, black ebony hair braided neatly around the crown of her head while her pale silver eyes held shrewd perception that belonged to no ordinary civilian. From what he could see behind the gate, her garb resembled a traveling adventurer's more than a woman that tended to a homestead. Ilias was sure that if he enraged her, she'd claws his eyes out because her current expression was not cheerful. The frowning corners of her thinned lips were a dead giveaway that she was irritated but she held her tongue as her gaze met his, her finely arched brows rising with curiosity to his approach.

"She demands to speak to Altaïr and refuses to leave until she does" the assassin to his left explained the situation and the woman nodded stiffly to verify the claim. Well, this was certainly new. Their grand master was not one to become entangled with women due to his constant travel and he'd only ever mentioned one that was strong enough to stray his eyes away from his job for a few minutes.

"I aided him during a mission to Cyprus and Acre, he stated that if I ever required sanctuary from the Templars that I would find refuge here" she stated matter-of-factly and pulled a necklace from underneath her robes that held the assassin's insignia on a silver pendant. Her actions were calculated like any soldier's as she kept an eye on her surroundings but the light shake of her fingertips told him she was also worried as she informed calmly, "He gave me this as proof to my claims."

"Altaïr is not here, he's on a year-long mission" Ilias explained simply to the assassin's whereabouts and watched her lips part slightly in displeasure to the news. He assumed that whatever she sought was urgent or important because her contact with his comrade had been sparse whenever she sent letters and even then, they were only about Templar movements. If she was the same woman that had helped his brother, he would provide aid if there was an attempt on her life and asked for verification, "What is your name?"

She hesitated for a moment because for all she knew, they'd skewer her on the spot for the name just like her old order wanted. Throughout her journey to Masyaf, any glimpses of white she'd caught were elusive over the rooftops and could only seek out the assassin's order itself for what she needed. She trusted in the last hope she had, licking her dry lips in a moment of hesitation before answering, "Maria Thorpe."

Bashir dropped the ball on this one as he commented curiously to Rafiki, "He worked with a Templar? How contradictory."

Ilias had already been told about this by Altaïr as the man covered every corner in regards to his leave and quickly told the men to stand down before they chased her straight out of the village. The two guards glanced at him with surprise to the decision since anyone holding ties to the Templars were forced out of the village under the penalty of death. Maria merely kept a straight face to the fact, standing straight like the soldier she'd once been and Ilias spoke softly with a hint of curiosity in his voice, "He told me of your defection and ensured you were one to be trusted. My question is why you've come _now_?"

"I was gathering information on Templar movements across the Mediterranean but unfortunately, my body could not handle the demands anymore" Maria answered with honest disappointment as her missions came to an abrupt end because she was no longer worried about her own life. The last months had forced her to rethink her new conundrum and quitting her saboteur missions against the Templars had been a letdown, her brow furrowing with regret as she vowed quietly, "This is the last place left to me for help and all I can promise is that I mean your faction no harm. I will relinquish all my weapons and give all information that I have at my disposal for entrance."

The order would not be too pleased but Altaïr had assured him the woman had cut all ties with the Templars and nodded stiffly, "All right, you may enter but one wrong mistake and you will be left to your own devices."

"Good, because climbing back down would've been murder" she sighed with relief at gaining entrance because traveling nonstop since leaving Turkey had been exhausting on her. Not to mention, walking from the village to the fortress perked at the top of a mountain had tested her endurance and patience. She'd almost fainted on the ground floor when a villager had pointed out she had to climb up the mountain's carved steps since they didn't live within the village itself.

When the metal gate lifted to grant her passage, Ilias froze on the spot and Bashir's eyes bulged out of his head when they caught a better glance at the ex-Templar. Maria noticed their stunned gazes as they realized just _why_ she couldn't keep up with her warrior skills anymore and gently placed a hand over her plump stomach, stating with mirth, "Yes, I'm expecting and staring at it won't make it go away."

Ilias knew his days had just gotten longer with this new arrival (two, if he counted the unborn child) and motioned for her to follow, leaving everyone behind with quizzical gazes.

"Ow!" Bashir yelped painfully when Rafiki bit his shoulder in demand that he follow the two and the young assassin sighed, regretting his decision to partner up with a bird.

* * *

_Each review helps Bashir keep Rafiki at bay from his pecks. Either way, thank you for reading the story and I wish you a great day and night!_


	22. The Mother Of Egypt

**The Mother of Egypt  
**

* * *

_Back at Masyaf,_

"For the last time, I've told you that Altaïr will return in a year and if you disagree with that timeframe, you are free to track him down and leave our brotherhood with one less defender" Ilias stated stiffly with a nonnegotiable tone because he grew tired of Abbas' inquiries about Altaïr's right to be leader when he'd gone and left on his mission. The order was steadily regaining its numbers, something that couldn't be said about the Templars since the Crusades had drawn to a close with the treaty of Ramla and no longer allowed them a legal foothold on their lands (apart from sanctuary but the assassins would be watching their every move). Since then, their enemies had kept quiet as stragglers were killed and troops had begun movement towards Africa. He would not question his leader's decisions because he'd yet to lead them astray or endanger their lives but others were slower to pacify. To them, whatever Altaïr accomplished would never be enough and Ilias abhorred the ridiculous expectations they stamped over the grand master's head.

Abbas scowled to the ultimatum from his spot across the desk and Ilias stabbed his complaints with true fact, "Or have you not taken notice of the recent Templar deployments to the African continent where he headed? If Altaïr failed to leave and stayed to pick off the remnants that linger around us, they would have a large advantage with whatever they're planning."

The other man growled with displeasure to Ilias' news (which he hadn't been privy to) and left the room in a huff, leaving the current leader to shake his head at his behavior. Ilias treated all of his brothers with respect and allowed them to speak their mind, as Altaïr wished all of his members to, but there was something about that man that didn't sit well with him at times. His animosity towards their grand master on a personal level could cloud his judgment and the brotherhood came first before all else. This was one decent example of that fact. Altaïr held a history with the man, everybody knew it as the fortress carried gossip constantly despite the lack of women (well, unmarried ones), but Ilias hoped his friend's hope to remedy that broken friendship wouldn't blind him if Abbas became a danger.

He decided to leave his post for the moment since he'd done nothing but read updates from the pigeon carriers and a walk around the grounds would relieve his lethargy quickly. The scholars of their order greeted him as he left the large room filled with bookcases, breathing in the fresh air that swept in through the open doorway as he stepped out into the courtyard. My, was it sunset already? Well, at least dinner wouldn't be far behind and wondered how his brothers were faring in their trip through Africa. Altaïr could take care of himself but Malik's injury always poked Ilias' mind because fighting on the offense would no longer be a suitable option.

The dai had been quite enraged when he'd lost his limb, feeling the loss in all aspects as a man could since their limbs were a necessity for their lifestyle and had been forced to give up his rank as an assassin. For months, Malik had refused to relinquish his skills because although he'd lost a limb, his resolve for the order had never been stronger and had trained relentlessly to make up for the loss of perception on his left side. Upon his return to Masyaf, their grand master had personally sparred with him to sharpen any skills that he might've lost or been dull on to increase the agility and dexterity lost from the aftermath at Solomon's Temple. Thankfully, Altaïr and Malik had settled their conflicting differences with the passage of time and Ilias was glad to know the bond between the two friends had never been stronger. If only the issue with Abbas was that easy to resolve but each person was different in their approach to solving problems.

"Ilias, look at my recent accomplishment" Bashir's jubilant voice popped in as he approached him from the right, passing by all of the students gathering around Rauf's training circle, and the assassin hoped it wouldn't be a bomb of sorts that would explode on them. Or worse, poison.

He turned to find the inventor wielding Rafiki on a thick leather glove on his left hand, the bird quietly preening his feathers. For the past weeks, Bashir had been adamant in gaining the falcon's respect since he valued having fingers and wanted to prove to his grand master that he'd done his job splendidly. He'd even tried to take the bird on an assassination but the blasted falcon decided to peck at him when it was time to enter the city, reminding the young assassin to blend in with the scholars. Rafiki swore in his avian mind that it was like watching Altaïr in his teen years all over again since Bashir had years to attain his master rank unlike the gifted grand master. After many tries and failures, he managed to subdue the bird by speaking to him as an equal and offering food for its finicky palate. Quite frankly, he wasn't surprised with the bird's attitude because it matched Altaïr's.

"Did you finally allow him to cater to you?" Ilias asked with light humor on his Israeli features and Bashir began to answer but realized he was staring directly at the _bird_. Wait, what just happened? The young inventor merely blinked in bewilderment and the assassin chuckled deeply to his expression, explaining with an amused smirk, "Only Altaïr can tame the bird, the rest fall under his authority. You, my friend, just became his wagon."

Bashir groaned miserably to the fact and aimed a questioning gaze at the bird for clarification, who innocently glanced away to avoid the matter. Hmm, that bird was smarter than he gave him credit for. All three, however, stood at attention when the guards at the gate beckoned Ilias to come forward. That was odd. The only times he was required were for visitors, which were usually sent away due to their secret headquarters, or impending danger. With brisk steps, he descended the walkways past Rauf and his students with Bashir on his tail as Rafiki flapped his brown wings to order that he follow.

If danger approached their fortress or any of his assassins on assignments, he would deploy forces with the same battle strategies he and Altaïr had often discussed in case such an event arose while he was away. He came to the closed metal gate that separated their sanctuary from the outside world as two guards stood on either side with incredulous expressions and looked to find. . .

A woman.

Her features were of English descent, black ebony hair braided neatly around the crown of her head while her pale silver eyes held shrewd perception that belonged to no ordinary civilian. From what he could see behind the gate, her dark leather garb resembled a traveling adventurer's more than a woman that tended to a homestead. Ilias was sure that if he enraged her, she'd claws his eyes out because her current expression was not cheerful. The frowning corners of her thinned lips were a dead giveaway that she was irritated but she held her tongue as her gaze met his, her finely arched brows rising with curiosity to his approach.

"She demands to speak to Altaïr and refuses to leave until she does" the assassin to his left explained the situation and the woman nodded stiffly to verify the claim. Well, this was certainly new. Their grand master was not one to become entangled with women due to his constant travel and he'd only ever mentioned one that was strong enough to stray his eyes away from his job for a few minutes.

"I aided him during a mission to Cyprus and Acre, he stated that if I ever required sanctuary from the Templars that I would find refuge here" she stated matter-of-factly and pulled a necklace from underneath her robes that held the assassin's insignia on a silver pendant. Her actions were calculated like any soldier's as she kept an eye on her surroundings but the light shake of her fingertips told him she was also worried as she informed calmly, "He gave me this as proof to my claims."

"Altaïr is not here, he's on a year-long mission" Ilias explained simply to the assassin's whereabouts and watched her lips part slightly in displeasure to the news. He assumed that whatever she sought was urgent or important because her contact with his comrade had been sparse whenever she sent letters and even then, they were only about Templar movements. If she was the same woman that had helped his brother, he would provide aid if there was an attempt on her life and asked for verification, "What is your name?"

She hesitated for a moment because for all she knew, they'd skewer her on the spot for the name just like her old order wanted. Throughout her journey to Masyaf, any glimpses of white she'd caught were elusive over the rooftops and could only seek out the assassin's order itself for what she needed. She trusted in the last hope she had, licking her dry lips in a moment of hesitation before answering, "Maria Thorpe."

Bashir dropped the ball on this one as he commented curiously to Rafiki, "He worked with a Templar? How contradictory."

Ilias had already been told about this by Altaïr as the man covered every corner in regards to his leave and quickly told the men to stand down before they chased her straight out of the village. The two guards glanced at him with surprise to the decision since anyone holding ties to the Templars were forced out of the village under the penalty of death. Maria merely kept a straight face to the fact, standing straight like the soldier she'd once been and Ilias spoke softly with a hint of curiosity in his voice, "He told me of your defection and ensured you were one to be trusted. My question is why you've come _now_?"

"I was gathering information on Templar movements across the Mediterranean but unfortunately, my body could not handle the demands anymore" Maria answered with honest disappointment as her missions came to an abrupt end because she was no longer worried about her own life. The last months had forced her to rethink her new conundrum and quitting her saboteur missions against the Templars had been a letdown, her brow furrowing with regret as she vowed quietly, "This is the last place left to me for help and all I can promise is that I mean your faction no harm. I will relinquish all my weapons and give all information that I have at my disposal for entrance."

The order would not be too pleased but Altaïr had assured him the woman had cut all ties with the Templars and nodded stiffly, "All right, you may enter but _one_ wrong mistake and you will be left to your own devices."

"Good, because climbing back down would've been murder" she sighed with relief at gaining entrance because traveling nonstop since leaving Turkey had been exhausting on her. Not to mention, walking from the village to the fortress perked at the top of a mountain (of all thing!) had tested her endurance and patience. She'd almost fainted on the ground floor when a villager had pointed out she had to climb up the mountain's carved steps since they didn't live within the village itself.

When the metal gate lifted to grant her passage, Ilias froze on the spot and Bashir's eyes bulged out of his head when they caught a better glance at the ex-Templar. Maria noticed their stunned gazes as they realized just _why_ she couldn't keep up with her warrior skills anymore and gently placed a hand over her plump stomach, stating with mirth, "Yes, I'm expecting and staring at it won't make it go away."

Ilias knew his days had just gotten longer with this new arrival (two, if he counted the unborn child) and motioned for her to follow, leaving everyone behind with quizzical gazes.

"Ow!" Bashir yelped painfully when Rafiki bit his shoulder in demand that he follow the two and the young assassin sighed, regretting his decision to partner up with a bird.

* * *

_In Giza, Egypt. . ._

The trio found themselves inside the Queen's chamber, the floors covered with caking blood from the corpses of their recent battle. They thanked the veil of dusk for covering their tracks back to the pyramid and the dead they'd hidden since security lacked in the area during those hours so dumping them somewhere had been easy enough. Amon's group would intercept any troublemakers that headed their way throughout the night and hopefully, most of the Templars would be dead by midnight. Altaïr was already exhausted from the entire day and would have to risk spending another night within the city after killing an entire unit but would depart before sunrise to protect his team. The ancient walls of the room appeared the same as Malik observed the ancient carvings and paintings carefully for any hidden clues while Vivian noticed a lot of deity images in the horizontal carvings but nothing out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, she had headed into general history focusing on the Old World rather than the tempting Egyptology category due to the numerous branches of the discipline that would allow her to gain a job. After all, the economy in her time was dependent on supply and demand so she'd best to hustle into a field that would grant her sustenance with her love for history.

"Isis, the mother of Egypt as the ancient people called her" Altaïr stated simply as he noticed her close inspection on the northern wall where the popular goddess had been painted and she nodded quietly, her fingers roaming over the old hieroglyphs with astonishment. The rush of excitement from touching _history_ itself and discovering ancient secrets is what drew her to the field. She'd rejected dates and friendly outings to spend hours in museums, studying artifacts from their display cases and was certain every employee at the natural history museum in Berkeley knew her by now. Her green eyes met his briefly, noticing his honey eyes had slightly dilated to show he was using his eagle vision on the wall and Altaïr stated softly, "This land had many gods just as other polytheistic religions of the old world."

"Every religion tends to have many, some hold one higher than the rest as other are either below or held as saintly" Vivian agreed with a modest smile to what time showed in both their realms as religions rose and fell with the passage of time, similar to governments. He focused on the glowing multicolor symbols above him, noticing they were guiding him towards one of the walls and his eyes narrowed to the blinding hues as she continued, "Religion will dominate the way the world is seen for many centuries and the race of men will fight to dominate which is right. It's horrible that most proclaim peace among men but they won't hesitate to kill innocents for it."

"Your world as well?" he asked grimly and she gave a noncommittal shrug since they were both pretty similar, except for the Templars. The Creed held the ironic rule of maintaining peace in society but they killed in order to achieve it yet Altaïr would not change it in the slightest because it guided his life and many others. He pointed towards the eastern wall as the nonsensical symbols increased with frequency with each passing step, beckoning him and he informed carefully, "I am going to climb the chamber wall to see if there is anything here."

"Be careful" she called out with a tentative voice to ward off appearing motherly (he _was_ a capable assassin, after all) but he cast caution to the wind since it was a simple climb for someone that could tackle mountains. Malik decided to sit on one of the plump bags of loot to relax since figuring out this new conundrum wouldn't be easy and prepared for the haul. His hand absentmindedly brushed over his baby smooth cheeks and sighed wistfully to the short beard that had kept mosquitoes from trying to bite him and frowned, hoping his facial hair would grow fast or he'd take Vivian's walking stick to smack Altaïr.

Vivian, however, remained glued to each of Altaïr's movements to make sure no hidden traps sprung at him to bring harm and stood at attention like a soldier if he needed anything. As a true fan, she couldn't help but watch him solve a problem that would help the future and cursed Ubisoft for sticking him as a minor character in the other games. Ezio's journey had stirred many emotions within her as she walked in his steps but thankfully, he'd had other assassins guiding him while Altaïr had taken the bull by the horns on his own at twenty-five to lead the entire order. Like a faithful old hound, she stayed nearby as the seconds ticked into a minute and the minute became many minutes until. . .

"I see something!," he called out and climbed towards one of the highest carvings depicting Osiris as the glowing alien markings surrounded the area. As he hung from one of the ceiling's ledges, he noticed the one of the hieroglyphs of a rising sun had been designed to appear as one but upon closer inspection . . . he found his entryway. It had been painted over to conceal its true purpose as the chiseled shape was strangely familiar and he knew just where he'd seen it. Using one hand to dig into the concealed breast pocket within one of the layers of his robes, he dug out the faintly luminescent artifact and placed it within the limestone mold that fit perfectly around it. The sound of a lock opening echoed throughout the chamber and Altaïr smiled at knowing there was a reason behind that strange artifact; it simply needed to return to its rightful place.

Unfortunately, that was just the first phase of the long haul to the piece of Eden as the artwork around the key shifted to protrude outwards and three circular rings faced him. On each separated ring, there were specific hieroglyphs burned into carved into the limestone as the entire image on the wall shifted completely from its original angle and he groaned to the new problem. This was not how he envisioned spending a night in Giza. His right hand lightly pressed against the first one and felt it move down under his touch, realizing they were separate pieces and Altaïr was more than sure he had to solve a puzzle. Of course, those blasted creatures couldn't make it easy on him!

"Does anyone happen to know ancient Egyptian?" he spat irritably to the horrible puzzle that was holding him back from the piece of Eden at this hour of the night. Ugh, he was cranky, sweaty, hungry, and overly exhausted that he just wanted to sleep while somebody spoon-fed him from his bedside. He wasn't fond of hanging from the ceiling while simultaneously trying to crack the riddle that could injure him if he pressed the wrong letters. Pressing his feet against the stable unmovable wall, he glared at the symbols and shouted down for a little bit of help, "Vivian? Tell me that spongy mind of yours can figure this out, I will cherish you for eternity if you can solve this! Malik? I will wash your clothes for a month!"

"Hey, why don't _I_ get servant service? You can't milk cherishing" Vivian pouted disappointedly since she doubted he'd become sweet like a flower overnight. It would be too eerie for the strong badass assassin the she and many others had come to adore (and worship, in some cases). She didn't know Egyptian hieroglyphs extensively like an Egyptologist in training but her mind had absorbed quite a few things through the years and groaned under her breath with embarrassment, "Oh man, I'm about reach a nerdiness of epic proportions of the likes which I have never shown in public."

_Well, at least it won't be like that spelling bee in fifth grade in front of the school that earned me a pretty ribbon but the name Pointdexter for the rest of the year,_ she thought glumly because having a mother in journalism and a father in medicine had allowed for a very good vocabulary at that age.

"Vivian, stop talking to yourself and throw me a roll of parchment and a charcoal piece" he ordered sharply to pull her out of her nonsensical ramblings and she moved with unbelievable haste to listen. Well, that was new because he usually had to share jabs before she scuttled off to listen to his orders.

He caught the items she threw his way and proceeded to write down each on the white paper as best he could for the best interpretation because it all trickled down to answering the puzzle. Dropping down onto the floor with relief to his muscles, he rolled his shoulders to ease any soreness because his anatomy wasn't a monkey's that was designed for climbing. Handing her the paper, he ordered her to figure it out and she stretched the entire length over the queen's sarcophagus to peer at each symbol closely with a meticulous eye. This is where her freshman summer vacation came into play as she'd attended exhibits on ancient Egypt and had stayed for lengthy discussions with visiting Egyptologists. She'd had such a wonderful time during that year and surprised her poor father on one afternoon when she'd hauled in a stack of books that rose over her own head.

One was quickly recognized from the common use and she explained with a confident smile, "This one belongs to Isis but this one right here," she pointed to a strange geometric shape that was almost cube-like, "is different, which tells me there's another word. Seeing as it appears either as a throne or house, it could mean a place of protection under her guidance- a temple, possibly."

"A temple for what?" Malik pondered as he stood on her right side, idly tapping his smooth chin in thought. His knowledge might extend to cartography and history for the lands he'd traveled to but he'd give translated a dead language a shot when Vivian couldn't find an answer. Altaïr, however, was at a completely loss because history had never been a forte of his as he preferred the blade, philosophy, and the thrill of adventure. He could sharpen a blade to perfection but if you asked him anything in regards to ancient Mesopotamia, he'd simply tell the person if they wanted the blade cleaned or not.

"Who knows" Vivian replied quietly as she observed the next symbols that Altaïr wrote from the middle ring, a circle with a line intersecting its center and her neurons were hard at work for the answer. One fortunate cell finally managed to solve the puzzle in a few seconds, holding the magic flask of an answer as she tapped the charcoal scribble to explain, "This one underneath is the sun, common with their sun deity too, while this one-"

"He's dumping out water" Altaïr muttered flatly since it made no sense in his mind as he stared at the little stick figure with a jug in its hands and took the most logical guess, "He wants to grow crops? Fetching water from a well? He's thirsty and went to the well?"

"Why would someone want to water crops in the afterlife?" Malik questioned skeptically to his suggestion and the assassin shot him a glare for having his two cents denied in the thinking pool. What? Did lack of a knowledgeable background ban him from input? Vivian ignored the two for the moment as she pondered over the little stick figure while the dai pointed out matter-of-factly with a frown, "It's _why_ it's called an afterlife, you enjoy eternal peace away from mortal toils. Nobody wants to fetch water when they're dead! Allah will grant me _peace_ when we both depart from this world and reunite me with my arm so I can beat you with it while you fill your silly jugs of water."

"You don't even believe in Allah anymore!" Altaïr retorted sarcastically since the news had disintegrated the dai's previous belief in religion after learning about the Apple of Eden. The grand master had abandoned religion altogether ages ago but maintained a spiritual view for certain unexplainable things that the items could not control. Their order had always had assassins of varying ideologies, his parents being a prime example, but Altaïr's eyes had been opened to the 'miracles' the pieces of Eden created.

"Another reason I should beat you with my spiritual arm one day!" Malik shot back because that was one gift he could've lived without because he liked to believe there were miracles in the world. There had to be something to look forward after his life ended, _something_ to tell him that all of his work meant something and he'd left his footprint in time. To know that everything he accomplished during his mortal life would end where he died and his consciousness would cease to exist . . . it sounded rather bleak.

"Water is a symbol itself, cleanliness, purification. . ." Vivian murmured under her breath as she continued deciphering by ignoring their spat and her eyes widened to the answer staring her in the face. Truly, it could've struck her with the same force as her head meeting the floor on her unorthodox leave of her world. Ezio's meeting with Minerva! The sun obliterated most of the ancient beings and humankind on Earth many millennia ago, a purification in itself! Her lips widened into a grin as Altaïr's figurative little jug of water came in handy and she declared with triumph, "The sun's impending destruction of Earth once more- I'll tell you more later, you and I will be long gone before that comes into play though," he almost hung his head at this, "It's plainly obvious with the next symbol of a person lying on the ground, they're definitely not napping. It matches with the symbol above it if the first symbol represents the mother of humankind and her temple, protecting her children against it. The last ring, however. . ."

"An eagle . . . and a disturbingly creepy eye" Altaïr commented awkwardly at the end but he was definitely sure the first was a bird, either a falcon or eagle since they were the predominant predatory birds of the area. Malik and Vivian aimed a deadpan stare for the latter comment because 'creepy' didn't help their case at all and the assassin grumbled irritably under his breath, "I'm starving and prone to fussiness at this point."

"Want me to rub your belly?" Vivian grinned cheekily with a sickeningly sweet face since the motion helped dogs and babies from fussing or colic but it earned her a death glare. Altaïr would be caught dead before he ever lowered himself in such a shameful manner and practically hissed at the woman to keep her hands at bay when she wiggled the tips of her fingers. She let the joke drop for the time being and returned to solving the hieroglyphs because she was starving as well, sighing softly with concentration, "Well, this one is an arm. It could be guiding, leading, it's not raised to deny or shield."

"The next is a man holding a cross, praying perhaps?" Malik added in as they tried to unscramble the symbols and Vivian wiped sweat from her brow as her brain sorted through the pieces. Man, and she thought daily Sudoku drove her insane. If Ubisoft planned on increasing the difficulties of plot important missions with puzzles, she'd be in trouble when she returned home. Malik took the mental torch from the historian since he could only take a guess by judging on the gestures of the human figures and rested his elbows against the sarcophagus, covering his mouth in politeness as he yawned tiredly, "Seeking protection? Giving it?"

"He's a shepherd" Vivian smiled warmly as she looked closely at each symbol on the parchment (the light bulb finally lighting up in her head) and pointed to the first symbol of the last ring to recite, "The eagle guides or possibly leads. . .as a shepherd but where?"

"The temple of Isis" Altaïr answered simply as he pointed to the first ring symbols because he doubted the person would lead innocents to a horrible sun sizzling death. Well, _he_ wouldn't. Vivian had briefly told him of a catastrophic event and how pieces of Eden were related to the underground temples but she didn't have much to go on since she no longer lived in her time. There was only so much information she could give him without affecting his future and he accepted that, pointing to the first ring that they'd solved to hypothesize, "Being the mother of Egypt, her temples or just about any sanctuary would provide safety against catastrophes."

Vivian stared at the drawn eagle with a quizzical eye and Altaïr's pointed white hood caused her overworked neurons to pause as she realized, "An eagle will guide them," her approving gaze met his, "You. Your descendants or any assassin, really. You are the protectors of humankind against all dangers. The question is, how do these three fit together in a way that won't have us activating a trap?"

"Write down each possible solution and I will try it myself while you two leave-" he ordered quickly since he'd risk his life before theirs but they weren't having any of that. His words trailed off at the serious expressions on both their faces because they were adamant to stay by his side to see it through to the other side. Did they really think they'd leave him alone after what they'd gone through, especially Malik? The man lost a lot since Solomon's temple and the recent removal of his beard was another item on that growing list.

Vivian allowed Malik to do the arguing this time because they wouldn't be leaving him alone to face who knows what and tore another page from her journal to turn it into three equal strips. She handed one to each of them to get their neural juices flowing again and handed out her first order to get started, "Write down all of your combinations and we'll compile them into one list."

* * *

"You know, it's very hard to hold a paper in your hand while pushing a button and simultaneously hanging from the ceiling" Altaïr called down with a scowl as he adjusted the final strip of their combinations in his hand without losing it when he pressed his fingers against the stone. The lighting, of course, couldn't have been worse since the candles died out long ago while they'd been on their chase and torches had been lit to bring light into the chamber. Unfortunately, most of it stayed in the center at average eye level rather than trailing along the ceiling and he sighed under his breath for the horrible lighting. How the ancient Egyptians traveled through here in the night for any rituals was beyond him.

He warned them to stand at the entrance of the chamber for good measure as he pressed down on each ring to begin the first combination, a flicker of concern running through him when he pressed the last ring first. Vivian clasped her hands together to let her fingers wring in suspense while Malik eyed the chamber for anything unusual. Whatever happened, they would-

Nothing happened.

"Well, that was both anticlimactic and relieving" she sighed thankfully as her shoulders relaxed but kept rooted to her spot for extra safety measures. It could decide to spring up a surprise seconds later- even a minute- and swallow them all up. After all, these temples hadn't been used in centuries and maybe even millenniums. She didn't have the cat-like grace of her companions and she'd fall flat on her face before she could grab anything if such a scenario occurred so she'd scram like a stubborn cockroach to survive.

The second combination yielded nothing and the third had him using his elbows to press the stone forcefully due to the strength needed. Hanging from the ceiling like a monkey did not help matters, especially when his left shoulder joint began aching from the prolonged tension as it supported his entire body weight.

Finally, the fourth worked like a charm as the second ring with the sun went first and the eagle played second while the temple tied it all up in the end to foretell the future. Instantly, the rings receded back into their original spots as the ancient hieroglyph painting reset to its old position and the metal artifact turned clockwise to activate something within the pyramid as Altaïr watched the stone settle back into place. Well, they wanted a response and were now going to receive it. The ancient limestone walls rumbled as the ancient pyramid came alive under his fingertips, the shaking force leaving him hanging by one arm but he was comfortable enough to drop down without any damage as he returned to his companions. Vivian yanked him away from the chamber by the arm as the wall with the rings shifted, the circular area lowering into itself as dust flew into the air to reveal an opening in its shape. It was big enough for a person so it was obvious that Altaïr would be crawling through the duct to lead him towards whatever architecture had been designed to house the piece of Eden. . .after he finished coughing out the ten pounds of dust that had burst into the chamber.

"So, who's climbing in with me first?" he asked calmly without a hint of worry to what lay behind there and Vivian pointed to Malik since they were the assassins. If anything fishy awaited them inside the dark tunnel, they would be able to resist and maneuver themselves while she'd be Bambi over ice.

She wanted to try her Spiderman skills on the walls in case she had to act fast and Altaïr held back a snort when she fell from the first thing she grabbed. Nope, she was not meant to climb at all. He felt inclined to give her a pointer about grabbing the closest grooves since her fingers were slimmer than his but said nothing, leaving her to figure it out. Vivian was a determined woman with a good head on her shoulders, she'd find a way to figure out his tip. Without effort, he climbed into the overhead duct and held out his hand for Malik to grab onto as the dai used his jumping skills for reach. Vivian's jaw dropped to pop her mouth open to the easy parkour of the dai (who only had _one_ arm, no less!) and couldn't help but sigh as her little flame of hope died out. There was just no way to do that as a normal person without severely fracturing a limb! She'd fail horribly like Andy, Dwight, and Michael had in The Office when they attempted it. Clasping his hand, Altaïr pulled Malik up easily in one yank and waited for him to crawl past him before fetching his other companion.

When he returned for Vivian, he found her nursing a throbbing tailbone after too many falls while studying the wall for any interesting crevices. She had to hand it to the Egyptians because when they built a pyramid, they made it to last. If only she could find a good pair of shoes because the endless walks had already ruined her first pair of cloth shoes and she'd bought leather for added protection from anything sharp on the road. Altaïr had to admire her determination to conquer the flat surface but unfortunately, she lacked the skills. Unlike Malik, she held none of his trained finesse and told her to latch onto his back for the climb since the opening wasn't at a short height. She rubbed her sore butt one last time before erasing her frown of disappointment and piped up proudly, "I think this is the first time you're carrying me where I'm not unconscious."

"I do hope you won't be biting me this time?" he smirked with amusement to their first meeting because the woman had truly made him believe she was literally insane with her ramblings. Women were not assassins in his order due to the gender roles of their society but they served his order as informants, keeping out of the line of fire and maintaining the shroud of invisibility when wandering the streets. Nobody expected a woman to pose as a danger and only the most trusted were utilized in such a manner. His mother was an informant as her Christian background helped to gather information for the Order as most Templars infiltrated religious sects for financial backing; a fact he'd found in the records of the library when his mind itched to know his origins. It wouldn't bring her back but it helped to piece a collage of where he'd come from but his only sense of home was Masyaf.

As she grabbed on for a piggyback climb, her laughter told him that she'd never attempt such a thing again and Vivian apologized about the current situation, "Sorry for not being able to wall climb since my skills are all in the history category."

"You supply me with knowledge and I will bring the sky to you" he stated earnestly since her mind was aiding them in missions and she tried to shove down the rose tinting her cheeks in effect to his words, playing the role of a barnacle instead. Ezio might be the sweet talker of the game but Altaïr had an articulate way with words that left her giggling like a schoolgirl when he merely meant them as compliments. He grasped any broken pieces of limestone from protruding designs or broken pieces to hoist himself upwards and spoke aloud to compliment her abilities since he'd yet to do so since meeting, "You proved your worth with deciphering those symbols so never feel embarrassed about abilities that give you an advantage, leave the assumptions of others in the trash where it belongs. There's strength within you, Vivian, it's simply an entirely different sort than ours."

She had the deepest desire to gush at his words with biggest sappiest smile ever but chose a wittier response to shroud her feelings by teasing gently, "That tummy rub is still available if you get fussy."

"And like that, you plummet my brief admiration into the dark bowels of a dying sun" he stated flatly with a faint smile on his scarred lips and she chuckled with amusement to his carefully chosen words. So the man _was_ capable of humor after all. Altaïr wouldn't make her fall into fits of laughter like Ezio (oh, how he made her tummy hurt) but he brought a smile to her face and it sufficed with a stoic man like him- especially in that era of time.

She grabbed onto the edges of the open hole when they reached it, wincing when there was nothing to add friction for a decent grip. The entire tunnel was smoothed down and she pulled her sleeves over her hands in the hope that they'd aid better in comparison to her slightly damp hands (a reaction that occurred every time she was nervous). Malik lent a hand by grabbing her wrist and she hoisted herself up with the other as she pushed herself upwards but Altaïr hissed in complaint when her shoe pressed down on his left shoulder. Didn't she know how hard it was to scrub out dirt stains? Vivian, on the other hand, wondered just how the man managed to fight his way through bloody enemies and leap from buildings _without_ completely tarnishing those robes. He smacked her shoe away as she entered the tunnel safely and he followed after, hoping that she hadn't left a footprint on him.

With all three gathered in the dark tunnel, they crawled their way towards the only open area giving them bright light as Altaïr led the way. The limestone was sanded smooth so it blew away Vivian's idea that artwork could have been chiseled into the stone for the assassin to decipher. Midway, Altaïr noticed a change as they crawled further along as the dark tunnel took on a teal appearance that ran along in fine lines along the dark colors of the wall. Vivian paused in her crawling to run a hand along the flooring when it no longer scratched at the fabric of her trousers and her fingertips slid along a smooth cold material that felt similar to polished granite. The shifting appearance of the tunnel reminded her of the temple under the Vatican that Ezio found after trailing that fat Templar pope, quickly scuttling along before she was left behind. It was eerily strange; the hue appearing entirely too bright and ethereal to be anything human- there had to be some sci-fi stuff tied into it.

She was about to advise him about being careful with touching anything but the words died on her lips when the floor gave way underneath them, shifting into a spiral staircase without them being none the wiser and they slid down in a heap as all three tried to grab hold of something. Anything! They tumbled through the closed staircase like snowballs in an avalanche and although Altaïr grabbed leverage a few times, Malik and Vivian pushed him off as they failed to do so. Altaïr hit solid ground first with an ungraceful tumble onto his stomach, withholding a groan for the unexpected shift in his surroundings. This was not how a master assassin reacted when he fell into a trap or uncertain circumstances.

He let out that painful groan a second later when Vivian landed directly on top of him, pinning him to the ground and Malik finished their human pyramid by loudening that groan from the poor assassin. Did a cow fall on him?! Altaïr clenched fists struck the floor in painful protest to the sudden weight of two people, Malik's incoming landing sucking out the remaining air left in his lungs and Vivian tried to free herself from both as she mumbled weakly, "Eh."

_I'm being flattened like a crepe!_, she thought miserably since Malik was heavier than he looked and thanked the stars that Altaïr hadn't fallen on her since the man was taller. If he had, she'd have been flattened worse than Wile E. Coyote under a boulder because he was the tallest and bulkier of the two due to his arsenal of weapons. How people wrote fanfics with intimate love triangles was beyond her, wishing to replace herself with them to be spared the uncomfortable pressure. She wiggled to find leeway on the weight and cried mentally, _By all that is holy, I can't feel my right arm!_

"Please. . .get _off_ me!" Altaïr wheezed politely with a ragged voice and Malik rolled off to stand up easily while Vivian fell on all fours like a newborn puppy. He coughed aloud as he filled his lungs with precious life-giving air and opened his eyes to meet a decorative floor unlike anything he'd ever seen. Not even glass mosaics or stone could compare to the glowing teal hue radiating from the dark color of the room and he sat up quickly to gather his bearings.

"Our first find into a temple and we can't even walk into it" Vivian sighed shamefully as she sat up with sore wrists and groaned miserably to the area in front of them as a shiny gold metal fence protected a circular area that looked completely out of the ordinary. There was nothing special about it as the entire room was made of the same material- even the flooring- but she guessed that the spike fence had to come down. Alongside the walls, metal poles stuck out horizontally and remembered Ezio's amazing acrobats that frightened the hell out of her during several assassin tomb locations. That man deserved props for some of the crazy things he'd climbed and wistfully sighed at missing out on the rest of his adventure in the games (she'd be heartbroken if she returned home to find they switched him out for another guy). She pointed to the walls as they spread throughout the room towards a very high domed ceiling (how had this temple not been discovered?) and sighed softly, "Get ready for more flying squirrel jumps, buddy."

Altaïr said nothing about the new tasks, keeping the sour comments to himself and headed for the closest pole to latch onto it with the grace of an Olympian gymnast. Tired or not, Vivian allowed her eyes to glaze over as she ogled the poor assassin and his beautiful form- ahem, _movements_. Malik, who had been starving for quite a while, retrieved a piece of flat bread from his pocket to munch on before his stomach began grumbling like a ferocious dragon.

The assassin ascended each pole, perching himself carefully before reaching for the next that raised him higher towards the ceiling. The entire area was covered with poles, each carefully constructed to be reachable by assassin hands or one that held the traits he held. On the fifth pole, he noticed an indent within the smooth black wall and found himself curious when a small metal handle was encased in a circular indentation. Vivian had awed Malik with a few random missions about the game based on his life but he'd zoned out when she'd headed into a future century because it no longer concerned him. After everything he'd gone through that day, he dared the ancient beings to make his night lousier and pulled the metal handle for subtle retribution.

A few of the metal spikes descended into the floor, disappearing completely, but it didn't allow any room for anyone to enter the center. Vivian channeled her inner fangirl to encourage the man onwards because if her energy had already been zapped during the climb back to the pyramid, Altaïr wasn't far behind. Hey, if it worked for anime characters in shows, why not make an attempt in an AC time paradox shift? Stranger things had already happened to her. When Altaïr finally managed to activate three of those handles and create a decent space to allow Vivian through, she took the courageous plunge to wiggle forth but got stuck halfway through the protruding spikes. She wiggled her arms for Malik to pull her back out, the poor dai sighing for having to save the historian and she shouted back at the assassin, "Sorry, breasts are horribly notorious for preventing you from entering space the rest of your body can!"

"Manners, Vivian, manners!" Altaïr shouted back indignantly because he didn't want to think of that image at the neck breaking height he was at and leapt towards the next pole to latch onto it. Vivian ignored his minor rant as she returned to a safe spot back on the stairway and waited for him to reach the ceiling, quietly eyeing his movements and keeping Malik awake with a nudge to his side every few minutes. The dai was having a hard time staying awake and the fact that the room was colder than the pyramid itself mixed with his comfy robes to lure him into the land of dreams. If he knew where Vivian kept her pieces of charcoal, he'd have drawn eyes on his eyelids to take a nap while imitating that he was wide awake.

He jolted awake for the fifteenth time when Altaïr finally reached the last pole, his head inches from the ceiling itself and he leapt forward to grab a horizontal bar that had descended from the top of the ceiling when he'd pulled the last handle. From her view at the bottom, it reminded Vivian of a small parallel bar and Altaïr's weight pulled it down to finish the entire rotation. He hung on tightly when the metal groaned to the pull because falling from that height would injure him but he sighed in relief when the bar locked into place and all of the spikes on the ground receded to reveal the bare floor that had been barred from them. He wasted no time in lifting himself back onto the bar by lifting one leg, perching on both legs like a canary on its perch before jumping back to the previous pole for the trip back down to the ground.

Vivian and Malik stayed put to make sure they didn't trigger anything, the woman frowning with displeasure when Altaïr decided to cut his leaping short by releasing one of the poles halfway down to land on the floor. It put a little strain on his knees as they bore the force of meeting the floor but he was rather tired of climbing since the evening.

"That's the quickest way to sprain your ankle, you know" Vivian admonished for his hastiness to finish the entire route and headed towards him to scrutinize him with a motherly eye. She was turning into a mother hen with the man but she wanted to make sure the badass assassin stayed alive while she lived among them because he deserved to live an old cane-walking retired life. Malik merely grinned to her innocent heckling and Altaïr swatted her hands away when she demanded that he put pressure on his feet to make sure nothing was wrong. A quick reminder that he'd leapt off buildings for a living and managed to land safely in wagons quieted her but she still kept a quiet eye on him. He was getting ready to point out that she'd best watch out for herself since he didn't need extra protection but halted when a transparent golden apparition cut his words short.

The woman exuded an aura fit for accounts relating to old gods and current deities, her figure sharply defined as if she were truly standing in front of him. Oddly enough, her feet didn't touch the floor as a long white empire-line dress billowed to cover them and faded at the hem to clearly show she was hovering. Her skin tone matched his own sun-kissed hue while a golden circlet encircled her head and her arms were decorated in simple golden jewelry fit for royalty in the ancient Egyptian castes. Vivian had once sketched the only being of their kind, Minerva, to give him a glimpse of the old culture but the one standing before him appeared different- less elaborate in wardrobe but elegant in her own right.

"Who are you?" he asked quickly as his posture turned defensive immediately, standing in front of his friends while they stared with bewilderment. Not at her- _him_. He shifted his gaze from the ethereal transparent woman to them for a few seconds, sharply questioning, "You _can_ see her, can't you?"

"Um, how about no?" Vivian answered tentatively because she was seeing absolutely nothing but air and black walls in front of her but his shocked expression told her he wasn't lying. She looked to Malik for what he perceived but he was in the same boat as her, shrugging his shoulders because there was nobody but the three of them inside. Whatever he was witnessing was for his eyes (and apparently, ears) only.

Altaïr resisted pulling on his hood in irritation and shooed the two away to keep them safely behind him and strode forward to demand, "Who are you? _What_ are you?"

The honey-hued woman's gazed met his in acknowledgement but she said nothing for a few moments, her thin brows furrowing only slightly in thought until she spoke with a soft feminine voice, "I have had many names throughout time but throughout eons I've seen, Isis has sustained," her onyx eyes bore into his to add in knowingly, "And you. . .are Altaïr, a diluted remnant of our people that lingers to find truth through the sea of myths."

"How do you know my name?" he asked defensively since beings such as her belonged to children's stories of ghosts or old magic, unnerved to how easily she'd spoken his name. Being the one who existed in current times, they shouldn't have any information on who he was at all! Vivian had admitted to him that they'd been rumored to wield a POE with the power to shift time itself and he wondered if they'd tapped into that power when it came to guiding his descendant towards the final goal of saving the world. He didn't like being manipulated, especially when it came to his entire lineage, and would rather have them speak to him with respect as they told him directly what he was meant to do in order to protect humankind against the Templars or any other danger.

Malik was trying to figure out what was happening because Altaïr wasn't the type to talk to nobody in the center of a circle that had previously been sealed away and asked aloud, "Who are you talking to?"

"To one of _them_" Vivian answered softly since she experienced the same problem but could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. There was a certain type of energy in the air that only her sense of touch could briefly grasp while the rest were rendered useless at detecting the anomaly. She couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from and went by Altaïr's position that the person was in front of them, leading her to lean over and whisper to the dai, "If you focus, you can feel the energy. It's old but it's there. . .like a bad expired dinner that sent you cowering to the outhouse with violent diarrhea."

"Vivian" Malik shushed with a smile to her colorful example but he couldn't feel the energy she described. He didn't like being unable to detect a presence in front of him but Vivian assured him they were harmless. . .well, from what she'd seen so far. For all she knew, one or two games could've already been released in her absence. The historian merely shrugged with an innocent smile since acute stomach issues brought in goosebumps or a shiver down the spine before you were scrambling for the nearest crapper.

"You seek answers from the Apple to the truth of mankind and the secret knowledge that dwells there" the being explained simply to the cautious assassin and her right palm extended to flood the room with white light that faded to black instantly as it displayed the entire solar system. His friends couldn't see what he was witnessing but he'd glimpsed into that similar sight a few times since wielding the Apple and Vivian had explained the wonders that existed in the heavens. He'd never have believed he could live in a place that held such ethereal marvels and where he was a tiny speck in comparison to the true view of the heavens. How did humankind live in a round orb that floated in darkness without falling off? The sciences of his time could never grasp what he'd been bestowed for the past year. Her fingers hovered over planet Earth and her straight nose raised as she stated knowingly, "You are a being within a world where my people once dwelled with complete dominance but after our creation of man, _your_ kind betrayed us with the same items we'd created to instill order."

"Enslavement is such a pretty thing, isn't it?" Vivian snorted because nobody wanted to be a puppet for another but her eyes widened when she realized she'd heard a woman's neutral voice declare it. How. . .wasn't Altaïr supposed to be the only one who could hear them? Oh man, if she saw her, she'd be bordering on Sue-ism and wondering how it was even possible due to the genetic factors that allowed such unique perceptions! The woman's voice was garbled as the sentences kept adjusting in volume, almost as if a radio was being tuned to a station and she groaned under her breath, "Oh. . .fiddlesticks. That's not good."

"You were children and to gain power while knowing nothing of consequences was irresponsible but soon, it became our downfall as your kind rose against their creators" Isis stated calmly without chastisement about their pasts rather than explain entire history like Minerva had. Altaïr narrowed his eyes at knowing humankind bent to the will of these beings without question because nobody should have that right- everyone was meant to be free, regardless of intelligence. Small humanoid figures shrouded in the golden light that she exuded hovered over the holographic planet before fading like a dying flame and she continued somberly, "We fell into legend and myth as we became extinct from the cataclysm's aftermath that engulfed the Earth. You are one of the few that remains with our bloodline through the ages, gifted with abilities no other human has. You are the one to begin deciphering the truth to save your species, Altaïr, but another will complete it if he heeds our words during his own quest."

"He?" the assassin questioned because he was doing everything he could and wanted his work to matter in the end or at least, see a little result during the time he walked the Earth.

"Your quest has only just begun and you must travel downstream, past my temple to where the mighty river deposits" she stated carefully as the room was flooded with an image of a limestone temple that varied greatly from the one in Vivian's time and Altaïr etched it into his memory as the next key marker in their path to Lake Victoria. The solar system faded into darkness until only her form shined in the darkness of the hidden temple and she informed with a reassuring tone, "The artifact you've found on this day must be kept for years to come and it will aid you as you discover others to prevent their fall into the wrong hands. Five seals must serve to protect the discoveries of your travels and you will find the second in the golden city; this task alone will take decades but you will know what to do when the times comes. Your descendants must find all of your clues to discover what you have fought for or all will be lost."

Altaïr was lost to the immense knowledge being given to him, especially in an era where religion ruled all and science took a backseat, and resisted from throwing his hands into the air. Vivian stepped forward to offer a sympathetic pat on the back as the woman's voice faded in and out of her hearing, seeing nothing inside the temple besides the random dimming lighting, and he shooed her to stay behind him. To say he was unsettled by Isis was an understatement, especially when her dark eyes failed to blink and remained locked onto his the entire time she spoke, "Time has run out for my kind but you, who are the last of our children, have a last chance to undo the wrongs we failed to detect and understand. You must continue your quest till the end of your days to pass the torch onto your descendants. Two will heed our words, seven will continue your work, and one will bring it to an end just as the heavens are ready to engulf the world."

"That's a lot of-" Altaïr stated frankly about the tasks laid upon his shoulders, not to mention his descendants, and wanted clear cut answers about what he was fighting for and against. He had an order to lead and protect so he couldn't simply throw himself at something he didn't have a clear grasp on. For all he knew, these creatures could be lying and sending him to do their dirty work or worse. Isis, however, was shifting the topic elsewhere since she was there for insight and not clarification.

"The one who now travels with you, a gift brought unbeknownst to you by your own hand, will help find the answers" she stated clearly and Vivian flinched instantly to how clear in volume she heard the woman's voice now, feeling queasy unease in her stomach. It was a good thing she hadn't eaten a good meal in the last hours, crossing her arms defensively because she'd no idea whether the being was staring directly at her. Only her Spidey sense tingled to let her know Isis was still in the room but listened intently when she advised in an even voice, "Vivian, home will become available to you by Mercury when your task is done but you will have your own choices to weigh as one who is not of this world. You will explain what you have seen with Minerva's temple to your comrade and you will find your own answers as you travel to piece together the truth. You wield inner strength and must carry it towards the land of lemurs without faltering in resolve or state of mind."

. . . Wait, back up for a sec.

"The. . .the land of _lemurs_?" she hesitated with a deadpan stare because these beings made absolutely no sense at times! Wasn't it much easier to be direct and drop a hint that wasn't- _oh!_ The hamster wheel in her mind found the answer quickly to that peculiar animal since her youngest sister adored the Madagascar franchise and grinned triumphantly for having a movie solve it for her. Ha, and people said the media rotted your brain into zombie mush fit for a cannibalistic slushie.

Similar to Altaïr, she wanted answers to the questions regarding her passage home since this was her first real clue to her origins in his world after landing abruptly without a reason. Part of her psyche was still traumatized by the time shift and culture clash- not to mention, constant danger! However, Isis had other thoughts and her voice eluded Vivian as she returned to Altaïr to speak freely on the past, "Humans are capable of great loyalty and cataclysmic destruction, I was one who shielded the last remnants of your kind as darkness engulfed the earth. I oppose the destructiveness of both our species but not all of us chose the path as you will see with certain powers the pieces contain. I saw the changes of growth for your ancestors and wielded the heart of one without the need of our creations, the capacity of loyalty and love was something we hadn't fully comprehended until the war erupted. It is a shame that the seed of hope could not flourish between our cultures until the very end when our people were on death's doorstep. You will find our temples along the way and as you gather the pieces to your puzzle, keep vigilant against the Cross."

Altaïr wasn't the history sponge that Vivian was and wanted to know more about the current state of the items rather than what happened in the past. He could ponder on that later but he needed leads and concrete facts to further his goals in the present rather than the past or future since this was his life (and his order's) hanging in the balance.

"When you seek refuge from them, you are welcome in my sanctuary, Desmond" she offered freely with a lighter tone as her eyes bore into Altaïr's but she was no longer speaking to him but through him as a medium. The assassin had half a mind to demand who this stranger was because he was the one who managed to find his way into the temple but she continued onwards with encouragement, "Do not doubt yourself, this is your test. Everything you have learned, fought, and sacrificed will _not_ be in vain when the time comes. You must maintain your resolve in order to see everything through to the end."

The woman faded from Altaïr's sight immediately after she finished, bathing the room in dim lighting once more, and he called out to demand, "Wait! I have questions!"

The woman failed to return and the room maintained its original lighting from the luminescent walls. When he realized she wasn't coming back and the room remained in its darkened state before her entrance, he strode forward to activate whatever had brought forth the ancient being from its hibernation and snapped tightly, "Who the hell is Desmond? Why have _I_ been chosen for this?"

Malik, who'd endured complete silence since the spikes had descended, spoke aloud for a little input and clarification on what just occurred before him, "Would somebody care to explain what I missed?"

Vivian frowned to something she'd accidentally stepped in while standing in place and mumbled with disappointment, "I think I'm standing on a splattered fat bug. . .yep, definitely a bug. . .poor thing, I'm so sorry."

"At least it wasn't a scorpion" Malik lightened the mood since she felt awful at killing just about anything, even tiny insects and patted her on the back as she took her foot away from the pulpy black bug. The woman had a long road ahead if she wanted to wield a weapon without batting an eye or endure a moral conflict, smiling sympathetically when she answered that the other would've killed her in one jab of its tail.

Meanwhile, Altaïr had decided to pent out the day's frustrations by yelling like a madman through the temple and Vivian winced as his echoes carried through the chamber. She almost worried Isis would return just to zap him in warning to his angry ranting and furrowed her brow to sigh glumly, "Hmm, I _really_ expected him to handle this with a little more grace."

"Everybody has their limits but unfortunately, his boiling point explodes similarly to a volcano's" Malik informed simply with a small shake of his head since Altaïr usually kept himself composed in most situations but the day had brought an entire array of jobs just to find the piece of Eden. By the looks of the room, it also seemed that they would not be finding that piece easily or would be denied ownership since the strange being Altaïr heard was gone.

Altaïr turned to them swiftly since he barely found any useful information for his quest and was more than ready to exit the temple to leave it in his dust. Warnings against the Templars and old history lessons would do him no good since he needed answers for where to go and what his findings would yield. . .but received riddles and ambiguous answers instead. Vivian directed a sympathetic glance as she caught a glimpse of his frowning face underneath the pointed hood and approached him to state helpfully, "I will tell you what I know about them and whatever you read or see within the Apple. I will help you solve it and offer everything my brain has at your disposal, without altering time itself, of course. I might not know everything, especially if they had the ability to see through time and realms- which makes me wonder why they didn't see their world was about to go kablooey with all of their advanced technology," licking her lips as she stopped herself in mid ramble, she added in, "but I'll try my best for you."

"You said it yourself that you don't know how my story ends, for all I know there's only five good years left in me" he snapped sharply because he was grasping at strings at this point of his journey and had received nothing in return for his hard efforts. How was he supposed to add even more tasks onto his plate? Couldn't his descendants bear a few of them for him? Again, they would need him to survive to carry on his work and burden. On the other side of the swaying pendulum of time, Vivian already mentioned one fancied women more than training! What kind of man placed preference on carnal pleasures instead of swordsmanship?. . .Or maybe he was getting old at twenty-six, he didn't know anymore!

His entire body was tense with stress that had been poking at his brain since accepting his role as grand master since he constantly questioned himself about his qualifications. Was he wise enough? Strong enough? Would his young mind have enough to upkeep strategies to keep his enemies at bay? Was he making the right choices for his order? The entire trip into the pyramid had yielded risks for everyone involved and in the end, he had nothing but a small artifact as payoff for his efforts. Malik stayed in his spot to let his friend's frustrations fade away with time but Vivian stepped forward in an attempt to help him through it, compelled to empathize with him as she did whenever her siblings were in emotional distress.

"It's all right to be uneasy, maybe a little scared, I'm a bit rattled myself that they knew of my existence and refused to hand out anything good" she spoke gently with disappointment on her face to reassure him that everything would be all right. They had their main objective and the rest would slowly fall into place as they planned their next steps, nothing in life was easy so they would fight for it. Her first results in nabbing a return trip home had given her a permanent stay in the 1190s till Madagascar so for the next year, she was going to be stuck with the assassin whether she liked it or not (she didn't mind, it was the archaic outhouses that killed her). She'd no idea what she'd find in that country or how the mechanics of science would work to send her back but at least she'd gotten a morsel of optimism so she'd no longer sit in fear that she was stuck in time.

"You're easily rattled, you were hysterical when that tiny spider slipped into your tent" he muttered offhandedly as he tried not to show any shred of discomfort but a part of him worried his mission would yield nothing. His current situation was a prime example and he resisted from grunting in irritation to his bad luck of the day. Vivian narrowed her eyes for a moment because that specific spider had been _very_ fat and dark with menacing hairy legs. Oh, and it definitely had _not_ been tiny; if anything, tiny had been an understatement.

Altaïr remained with the agonizing feeling of being left in the dark but she grasped his wrist to still his fretful movements of unease, squeezing the metal gauntlet to assure gingerly, "You're not alone. . .and you can still vomit if the news is too much for your brain," adding a helpful grin, she joked, "It helped me when I arrived, remember?"

"Could somebody answer what just happened because my mind is boggled" Malik asked with a tired sigh since their adventure had been enough to send him to bed and wanted to know his travel into Africa hadn't been for naught. Vivian chuckled softly since the poor dai had lost his beloved beard as a playing card in their plans for success and she'd squished an unfortunate bug on the way in.

"Sure thing, buddy, but first, we have to find our way out" she agreed amicably and placed her hands on her hips, sighing dismally to having to climb back up the stairs and into a crawlspace. Well, at least there weren't any dangerous or creepy bugs lurking inside there. With great regret, she lifted her feet to drag them towards the stairs with the dai in tow-

"What the-"

Altaïr's feet suddenly gave way as the floor underneath them shifted without a single sound, plunging the assassin feet first into a deep crevice. Vivian and Malik quickly jumped out of the way towards the safety of the stairs as the floor continued to collapse in itself and Altaïr could handle himself against his alien ancestors' machinations while they'd sink like rocks. The assassin slid down the smooth synthetic material as the floor had sunk in to resemble a bowl, gritting his teeth in frustration since the slick flooring gave absolutely no friction to stop or slow his descent. Of course, his comrades decided to simply peek over the top rather than throw a rope to help because for all he knew, a machine that was eager to rip him into meaty shreds could've lurked at the bottom. As he slid down towards the center, a metal contraption of death didn't await him but rather, a small black podium with the same teal markings rose from the center. His feet hit the podium as he came to a sudden halt, using the force in his legs to prevent him from crashing headfirst into it from the gathered momentum. He released a small breath of relief for not cracking his skull open or falling into a dark pit filled with more puzzles, glancing up to his companions overhead.

"By the way, thank you for the help" he called sarcastically to his partners as they kept to their meek kitten demeanors at the top and heard a nonchalant 'no problem' from Vivian. With his strength, he would've brought her down with him if she'd decided to help with a rope and Malik would've been thrown off-balance since one arm couldn't suspend him in the air forever.

Cautiously, he stood up to gather his bearings before treading forward and caught sight of a gold metallic ankh resting at the top of the podium. Well, that was one surefire way to nab his attention. He approached the pristine shining object with tentative steps and unlike the key artifact that glowed subtly in his hands, this one held the distinct brightness of the Apple and the same foreign markings running throughout the cross.

Another piece of Eden was within his reach.

However, he wasn't going to touch it for fear of instant activation and wanted to be somewhere safe away from civilization before wielding it for study. Only those that sought power would throw caution to the wind but he would take all safety precautions with the unknown technology. Tentatively, he reached for the golden object with a cloth bag covering his hand to keep it inside and grabbed it by the end to place it into the bag for concealment.

Immediately after its removal, the podium receded back into the ground to return to wherever it dwelled for centuries and the floor rearranged itself to its old position. Truly, this ancient civilization had advanced further than his and even Vivian's time was no match to its technological capacity- which hadn't reached its own peak before they became extinct. He had no need to move as the floor raised him back to the normal level where it had originally been with his companions, lightly jiggling the bag to show his new find and informed them with renewed confidence, "I have it."

It was a huge relief off his shoulders to simply say those words.

"Splendid, I'm beginning to think these people expected all human refugees from the future to be perfect acrobats but they got that one wrong too" Vivian sighed tiredly as they finished their mission in Giza but smiled with satisfaction that he found what he'd been searching for. It was good to see him happy (well, as much as he showed publicly) because the man had been a madman on this search and knew they could now move on to another location. He couldn't help but allow the corners of his lips to twitch as the previous sense of hopelessness was replaced with sweet success. Vivian caught the facial twitches on his face as he struggled with a simple smile and despite the exhaustion boring into her mind, she smirked playfully to tease, "You can dance a little jig now, if you'd like."

"No, Vivian, we have work to do if we want to win this war" he declined with a faint chuckle to her outrageous idea because he rarely expressed his joy when he succeeded, taking the humble road in life. Vivian snapped her fingers with feigned disillusion to seeing him hop and twirl like a male ballerina performing Swan Lake but smiled widely since the fact that he replied without exploding with the intensity of a volcano told her his concerns were at a minimum now.

The newly dormant volcano known as Mt. Altaïr would reawaken once they landed in Lake Victoria and the little twin towns known as Malik and Vivian would shudder in its wake.

* * *

**A/N**: If anyone's ever seen the intro to Kung Fu Panda, I think that would be what goes on in Vivian's mind whenever she travels with Altaïr and Malik; she'd love to be in a scene like that where she's not embarrassed and can prove herself as one of them (of course, the bubble will burst when Altaïr tells her to stop daydreaming and make herself useful). I was rewatching it recently and thought, 'Man, I bet Vivian's mind plays stuff like that all the time'. Also, I swear if Ubisoft makes Desmond follow in Shepard's (Mass Effect games) shoes when the franchise ends, my faith in gaming will end. Apart from that, we can finally have the trio move onwards to the south where settlements are sparse so they'll have time to bond and get on each other's nerves.

Thank you for the new alerts/fav's, I love seeing them pop up while I'm studying for my nursing entrance exam. My day is made whenever a review drops in my inbox so I truly appreciate the feedback on the chapters, characters, and plot (even the 'yeah, another update') because I love writing as much as medicine.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: I'm used to drawing quick portrait sketches but if I could, I'd draw the crazy Altaïr expressions because his serious persona would clash so humorously while Ezio would amuse me with his laidback persona (man, I'm going to miss him in AC3 so Connor better be developed well). Vivian would make a good companion due to her endless looting because if Altaïr ever needs something crazy like a ball of yarn, she'd simply whip one out of her packs. I think Malik looks good in either the clean shaven or rugged look while Altaïr would appear like he came out of Cast Away. . .or as Desmond currently looks, a rounder-faced Adam Sandler. And yes, Maria is now in the cast of characters as we shift between Altaïr's group and Masyaf.

_BreathtakingNoises_: Thanks for loving it, it makes my day and although it's not finished, it will always be updated until it is. I'm glad to have another reader onboard for this tale.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: They'll be bonded more as they head south to Lake Victoria since they'll stick to the Nile so they'll be bound to get on each other's nerves. Once she does manage to leave- well, from what I've outlined- Altaïr will be distraught since he will have invested his emotions by that time (around 2 ½ years' worth) and Malik will lose an unofficial sibling. Malik is a trooper for initiating plans that will question his gender but Altaïr will probably get him a nice weapon in return for the trouble while Vivian is slowly growing to accept that she'll have to fight to survive. She's never been a fighter so it's a huge role change for the little bookworm. Altaïr has indeed become keen of the name 'little badger' but in the current chapters I'm writing, it's begun to shift to 'little falcon' as she grows to fit the intelligent, pleasant, and craftily fast species to complement the strong dominant eagle that she admires. This chapter was a little more serious due to the POE but the next will be back to its lighthearted edge as the task is complete.

_KrnYong_: With Altaïr being so deeply imbedded into the Order and his work, I don't think he's ever stopped to consider 'hey, I don't look so bad'. Given the era of time, Vivian's sort-of bold remark would have him checking himself a little more closely since she's probably the first to actually say it. And yes, Maria's in the story as she seeks safety during her pregnancy and her new role. Vivian is quite the nutter to lighten a situation and avert a crisis in any way she can.

_KHR-Fan_: I love hearing from new readers but don't worry, it won't be put on hiatus anytime soon. I haven't read many Malik fics recently but I'd like to think that his attitude as the direct rafiq could've affected the perception on writers since he was dealing with the emotional loss of his brother, the psychological loss of his job as an assassin, and physical loss of his arm. It's something you have to consider since each person is different when affected with trauma but seeing as Malik and Altaïr overcame that, I could've never written him as grumpy. He seemed very responsible and cautious to me in the beginning because I was agreeing with him when Altaïr was all 'yarg, let's kill these Templars my way without a thought for consequences' and wanted to switch to being Malik instead. I just had to have him in the story. The romance between Vivian and Altaïr is gradual since right now, we're 20 chapters in and there's still nothing there- we've still got many months till Lake Victoria and the two won't even be smooching then because Altaïr isn't the type to go 'whoa, time traveling OC that I've known for one week suddenly has my heart'. I laugh at those quick romances because it took a while for him to like Maria and she was an ex-Templar of _his_ time so don't worry about Vivian and Altaïr turning OOC anytime soon (I think Vivian would have a heart attack if he suddenly started reciting poetry and started smiling for no reason). As for your question, Altaïr will be jealous when he realizes that Vivian can choose just about anyone to be with despite the time shift and that she's not in the 1190s just for him to use as help with his quest. It'll help to shape what he truly feels for her and it won't be platonic. And don't worry about rambles; I love lengthy reviews and questions.

* * *

_Next Time_: **Fellowship of the POE**

"So you really received lodgings for returning stolen gold and jewelry?" Altaïr asked skeptically to the news of free lodging for the night, eyeing everything in the room with suspicion. His friends had informed him that their delivery of the stolen loot to Giza's administrators had indeed drawn an inquisitive eyes but the trio had framed the Raj thieves as the culprits, leaving a few dead bodies at the Queen's chambers while placing the Templars outside as if they'd died in the crossfire. Pinning the two as enemies rather than allies had been easy, strewing some loot around the floor and framing weapons on the dead bodies had been a piece of cake since forensic technology was nonexistent. Watching too much CSI came in handy for Vivian and she'd played wife once more as she and Malik happened upon the gory scene on their route to the city. A guard headed out to verify their claims and voila, a nice thank you for all of the Egyptian loot gave them a free night in an inn next to their building.

"With Malik regaling the story and tweaking it for security purposes while I reenacted it with sound effects, we practically gave them the entertainment for the night and earned a stay" Vivian grinned proudly and chowed down sweet grapes with a happy smile since she'd stayed inside the inn taking a bath in the private room while Malik had joined Altaïr for their super-secret meeting. She insisted that he be on his best behavior to ensure a stable future alliance and had sent him with a nice doggie bag of food to seal it (he wasn't happy looking like a courier). His dealings with the thieves' guild would be a step forward at staying on top of the Templars and she was proud of his progress. She sat at the table with her dish of deliciously warm food, joyous to the fresh dishes, and smiled towards the table filled with food to inform, "We have food that doesn't need cooking by us for the night, why do you think I sent you with the bag? The rest is ours so rejoice."

Altaïr, being the cautious man that he was, didn't trust the room at all and grabbed a nearby night table to haul it in front of the door to prevent trespassing. The two said nothing since it was best to be prepared and watched him use a blanket to loop through the metal openings of the closed windows to seal out any intruders that could open the wooden lock. He made sure everything was closed to prevent enemies from surprising them and Vivian held her tongue on asking how _they_ would escape if they were chased out of Giza.

"And if anyone asks, Vivian and I are married explorers searching for adventure while making our way north to Greece with our maps" Malik informed their friend about their characters while Altaïr eyed a plump roasted hen with a wolfish gleam in his eyes. He handed the man a plate before he began to drool so he could have a decent meal since their last had been the dinner Vivian had swiped for them with her pregnancy act. It felt nice to be rewarded for their good deeds and doubted it was poisoned since Vivian had been eating since they left her over an hour ago. Most poisons worked rather quick and only the most painful took their time so with Vivian chugging everything down without stop, he was in the clear.

The assassin grabbed the whole hen to pile onto his plate in comparison to Vivian, who'd grabbed a piece of the breast only, and smirked at the two to preen, "You two are still married?"

"Jealous because I took ownership of your pet eagle in the divorce?" she laughed merrily and they all shared a laugh, glad to be away from the pyramid and the windy desert itself.

"I have a _falcon_ and unless anybody has a death wish, he will be untouched" he reminded matter-of-factly as he swallowed a mouthful of black beans, his stomach happily gurgling for the food. Each portion was hot and fresh, perfectly seasoned, and he felt at home for the first time since leaving Masyaf. Vivian grinned like a sly fox from her chair beside him and poked his arm with her index finger with an innocent smile, leading him to bat her away with a simple, "Stop that."

"Only if you give me the falcon in our divorce" she grinned mischievously and took a deep bite of her hen to strike fear into him of what she could do to Rafiki. His starving and wolfish bites on the plump hen slowed down, his bite marks clearly apparent on the poor bird, as he watched her with narrowed eyes that were almost comical. Patting her stomach with her forearm since her hands were occupied and greasy, she implied evilly with a grin, "I'll give him a good home."

"You'll be skewered on my blade before you do" he threatened lightly because he was entirely sure that she'd never hurt an animal, much less his. His time alongside Vivian had shown her as a caring individual towards them and that benevolence carried to people as well since she refused to cut anyone down with a weapon. After everything that happened since morning, he ignored the metal fork on his plate as he cast meal etiquette to the wind and ate with his fingers alone as the warm delicious- most importantly, _fresh_- food was a great reward for his empty stomach. Vivian handed him naan bread from the basket and he took it with a grateful nod, biting into it with food still in his mouth. He didn't care if he appeared messy and a little uncivilized but when he was hungry enough to eat a camel, people's opinions didn't matter. Vivian's face, however, betrayed innocent amusement rather than disgust or apprehension as she followed his lead to fit right in. It almost made him laugh. . .almost.

"Then I'll await a glorious death" she grinned wittily and filled a glass with water, sliding it over to him while refilling hers because the endless walking had brought intense thirst. That chamber pot in the back would be in definite use tonight. She handed him a clean cloth to wipe his hands for when he finished his meal, neatly folding it on his right side, and passed him the wooden bowl containing the black beans when Malik finished pouring himself another serving. The woman had incredible mannerisms, he'd give her that much, and nodded to her in thanks. She pointed to another metal jug that sat behind the last hen left on the table and informed him, "There's wine in that, if you'd like some. Malik hit it pretty hard thinking it was juice and. . .well, he has stains to wash out tomorrow."

Malik used his cloth napkin to swipe at her head, bringing laughter from the three companions as they enjoyed a well-deserved meal. Now that was a moment Vivian could cherish since no danger, anger, or fear was involved- just simple endearing camaraderie. They shared tales about meals from their pasts where Vivian explained a corndog experience that left her without a baby tooth, Malik on how he'd eaten salty broth and the toughest meat imaginable to man during a trip to Damascus, and Altaïr on eating a raw fish when he couldn't find enough kindling for a fire. Their evening was filled with heartwarming stories and gentle joking as they laughed at memories from their current trip- namely, Altaïr's accidental destruction of a store booth and Vivian's ripped robes (Malik's lost beard was still too fresh for the poor man).

When Vivian finished her meal, she left the table with a plump stomach befitting a third month pregnancy and washed up to retire for the night because she was completely pooped. She clapped her hands to find their comfy beds for the night with a happy smile that they had a bed to sleep in because tomorrow, they would be using camp sites. First, they'd had delicious food and now a comfy bed awaited them for sweet sleeping, sighing aloud blissfully, "For now, we sleep on a normal bed. . .wait. . ."

There was only _one_ bed.

She'd distinctly asked for two as she faked their cultural customs required two to sleep separately so they'd all have a bed to share when Altaïr climbed in for the night. He cackled evilly to the new problem, his fist slamming on the table with jovial humor to her baffled expression as she stared at the small bed and grinned to tease her, "And now, the downfall of your schemes, little historian."

She stuffed a roll of bread into his mouth as she groaned to finally receiving decent lodgings but with a downside. Well, when life gave you lemons, make lemonade. Altaïr had half a mind to spit out the roll back at her face but the move was rather smart and sweet in taste, chewing into the bread to feed himself instead.


	23. Fellowship of the POE

**Fellowship of the POE  
**

* * *

"So you really received lodgings for returning stolen gold and jewelry?" Altaïr asked skeptically to the news of free lodgings for the night, eyeing everything inside the room with extreme suspicion. His friends had informed him that their delivery of the stolen loot to Giza's administrators had indeed drawn inquisitive questions but the trio had framed the Raj thieves as the culprits, leaving a few dead bodies at the Queen's chambers while placing the Templars outside as if they'd died in the crossfire in a looting gone bad. Pinning the two as enemies rather than allies had been easy, strewing some loot around the floor and framing weapons on the dead bodies had been a piece of cake since forensic technology was nonexistent. Watching too much CSI came in handy for Vivian and she'd played the dutiful wife once more as she and Malik happened upon the gory scene on their route to the city. A guard headed out to verify their claims when Vivian insisted they check thoroughly with dramatic flair and voila, a nice thank you for all of the returned Egyptian loot gave them a free night in an inn next to their building.

"With Malik regaling the story and tweaking it for security purposes while I reenacted it with sound effects, we practically gave them the entertainment for the night and earned a stay" Vivian grinned proudly and chowed down sweet grapes with a happy smile since she'd stayed inside the inn taking a bath in the private room while Malik had joined Altaïr for their super-secret meeting. She insisted that he be on his best behavior to ensure a stable future alliance with the thieves and had sent him with a nice doggie bag of food to seal it (he wasn't happy looking like a courier). His dealings with the thieves' guild would be a step forward at staying on top of the Templars and she was proud of his progress. She sat at the table with her dish of deliciously warm food, joyous to the fresh dishes, and smiled towards the filled table to inform, "We have food that doesn't need cooking by us for the night, why do you think I sent you with the bag? The rest is ours so rejoice."

Altaïr, being the cautious man that he was, didn't trust the room at all and grabbed a nearby night table to haul it in front of the door to prevent any trespassing. Vivian could only stare with surprised eyes as the man simply lifted it like a mere feather while she would've broken her back in two places if she dared. Neither she nor Malik said anything since it was best to be prepared and watched him use a blanket to loop through the metal openings of the closed windows to seal out any intruders that could open the wooden lock. He made sure everything was closed to prevent enemies from surprising them and Vivian held her tongue on asking how _they_ would escape if they were chased out of Giza. After the day they'd had, it was best to simply let him have this victory as he eyed his handiwork with pride fit for a mighty eagle.

"And if anyone asks, Vivian and I are married explorers searching for adventure while making our way north to Greece with our maps" Malik informed their friend about their characters while Altaïr eyed a plump roasted hen with a wolfish gleam in his eyes. He handed the man a plate before he began to drool in his spot so he could have a decent meal since their last had been the dinner Vivian had swiped for them with her pregnancy act. It felt nice to be rewarded for their good deeds and doubted it was poisoned since Vivian had been eating relentlessly since they left her over an hour ago. Most poisons worked rather quickly and only the most painful took their long agonizing time so with Vivian chugging down everything in sight without stop, he was in the clear.

The assassin grabbed the whole hen to pile it onto his plate in comparison to Vivian, who'd grabbed a piece of the breast only, and smirked at the two to preen, "You two are still married?"

"Jealous because I took ownership of your pet eagle in the divorce?" she laughed merrily and they all shared a laugh, glad to be away from the pyramid and the windy desert itself.

"I have a _falcon_ and unless anybody has a death wish, he will be untouched" he reminded matter-of-factly as he swallowed a mouthful of black beans, his stomach happily gurgling for the food. Each portion was hot and fresh, perfectly seasoned, and he felt at home for the first time in weeks since leaving Masyaf. Vivian grinned like a sly fox from her chair beside him and poked his arm with her index finger with an innocent smile, leading him to bat her away with a simple, "Stop that."

"Only if you give me the falcon in our divorce" she grinned mischievously and took a deep bite of her hen piece to strike fear into him of what she could do to Rafiki. His starving and wolfish bites on the plump hen slowed down, his bite marks clearly apparent on the poor bird, as he watched her with narrowed eyes that were almost comical. Patting her stomach with her forearm since her hands were occupied and greasy, she implied evilly with a grin, "I'll give him a good home."

"You'll be skewered on my blade before you do" he threatened lightly because he was entirely sure that she'd never hurt an animal, much less his. His time alongside Vivian had shown her as a caring individual towards them (she'd grieved over the poor fat _bug_ she'd squashed hours ago) and that benevolence carried to people as well since she refused to cut anyone down with a weapon. After everything that happened since morning, he ignored the metal eating utensil on his plate as he cast meal etiquette to the wind and ate with his fingers alone as the warm delicious- most importantly, _fresh_- food was a great reward for his empty stomach. Vivian handed him flat wheat bread from the basket and he took it with a grateful nod, biting into it with food still in his mouth. He didn't care if he appeared messy and a little uncivilized but when he was hungry enough to eat a grown camel, people's opinions didn't matter. Vivian's face, however, betrayed innocent amusement rather than disgust or apprehension as she followed his lead to fit right in. It almost made him laugh. . .almost.

"Then I'll await a glorious death" she grinned wittily and filled a glass with water, sliding it over to him while refilling hers because the endless walking had brought intense thirst. That chamber pot in the back would be in definite use tonight. She handed him a clean cloth to wipe his hands for when he finished his meal, neatly folding it on his right side, and passed him the wooden bowl containing the black beans when Malik finished pouring himself another serving. The woman had incredible mannerisms, he'd give her that much, and nodded to her in thanks. She pointed to another metal jug that sat behind the last hen left on the table and informed him, "There's red wine in that, if you'd like some. Malik hit it pretty hard thinking it was juice and. . .well, he has stains to wash out tomorrow."

Malik used his cloth napkin to swipe at her head, bringing laughter from the three companions as they enjoyed a well-deserved meal. Now that was a moment Vivian could cherish since no danger, anger, or fear was involved- just simple endearing camaraderie. They shared tales about meals from their pasts where Vivian explained a corndog experience that left her without a baby tooth, Malik on how he'd eaten salty broth and the toughest meat imaginable to man within it during a trip to Damascus, and Altaïr on eating a raw fish when he couldn't find enough kindling for a fire. Their evening was filled with heartwarming stories and gentle joking as they laughed at memories from their current trip- namely, Altaïr's accidental destruction of a store booth and Vivian's ripped robes (Malik's lost beard was still too fresh for the poor man).

When Vivian finished her meal, she left the table with a plump stomach befitting a third month pregnancy and washed up to retire for the night because she was completely pooped. She clapped her hands to find their comfy beds for the night with a happy smile that they had a bed to sleep in because tomorrow, they would be using camp sites. First, they'd had delicious food and now a comfy bed awaited them for sweet sleeping, sighing aloud blissfully, "For now, we sleep on a normal bed. . .wait. . ."

There was only _one_ bed.

She'd distinctly asked for two as she faked their cultural customs required two to sleep separately so they'd all have a bed to share when Altaïr climbed in for the night. He cackled evilly to the new problem, his fist slamming on the table with jovial humor to her baffled expression as she stared at the small bed and grinned to tease her, "And now, the downfall of your schemes, little historian."

She stuffed a roll of bread into his mouth as she groaned to finally receiving decent lodgings but with a downside. Well, when life gave you lemons, make lemonade. Altaïr had half a mind to spit out the roll back at her face but the move was rather smart and sweet in taste, chewing into the bread to feed himself instead. She tapped her right food thoughtfully as her mind came up with an answer and mused aloud, "Well, we'll just share a bed and before you start screaming, beds can be shared for sleep. I mean, really, do all of you see each other as starving lusty animals that need to mate constantly?"

She began to fluff the straw mattress for an easier sleep as the two men were ready to defend their side but she continued, "A bed is made for sleeping and that's what I'm going to do. Besides, there's nothing attractive about this time when men don't bathe regularly, maintain decent hygiene, and keep the same change of clothes day after day. I mean, who wants to sleep next to a man or woman that smells like leathery burnt bacon or something?"

"I have more than one change of clothes. . .and I _don't_ smell!" Altair insisted with offense about his assassin garb but kept his mouth shut on how many for risk of more arguments from her. He'd already nabbed parts of the robes she'd arrived in for extra pieces because dirt in that era was just about everywhere and the color white wasn't easy to maintain. As for the other part, well, he did the best he could when a bath was available.

"Not to mention that one of you snores like a furious bear" she tattled innocently with a mischievous gleam in her eye as she gazed at him and opened her pack to grab a new set of clothes. Although women wore robes in that era to conform, Vivian felt wonderfully free in pants and a tunic for sleeping rather than a gown. That, and the last time she wore one was on the night she shared a room with Altaïr and by morning, it had ridden up to her thighs. She wasn't about to be indecent in any way with the stoic assassin or friendly dai and hugged her bundle close as she added in with an amused smile, "And I'm not a prize pig either so I'm not immune with my own scents. All right, I'm going to go change so you two can fight on who gets the open slot."

Altaïr quickly shook his head as she declared a spot for herself automatically and demanded with a frown, "Wait, why do _you_ get the spot?"

"Because I'm a lady and despite my time would have no complaint on two men sharing a bed, a lady must be present in this time so HA!" she declared victoriously because homosexuality had a horrible stigma in that era but this was their time and she couldn't exactly start preaching otherwise. Quickly, she scampered off to change before the assassin could grab her since his hands were still dirty. Curse that little imp!

With an inaudible grumble, he headed to the washing bowl set on the night table and scrubbed his hands clean of the remnants from his good meal. Altaïr growled under his breath for having to fight for a bed as he reminded himself on his peace treaty, "Can't kill her, can't kill her, promised to protect her."

Vivian retreated to an area that held a simple maroon curtain as a changing screen but thanked her lucky stars that it was away from the bedroom, which would've increased her discomfort level. Despite she was from the future, Vivian was never comfortable changing anywhere (not even inside locker rooms or a doctor's office) and the past carried the same feeling. Thankfully, the two forgot that she was still in the room and tried not to laugh as she heard them fighting about the sleeping spot.

Malik placed his empty plate on top of the other two, sipping one last taste from the good burgundy wine in his goblet and teased, "Altaïr, I'd find myself very surprised if you ever touched a hair on her head."

The other man wiped his hands clean of foamy soap in the bowl but turned his head to the side and scoffed with mock disdain, "I could. . .I just choose not to waste my energy like that."

With that said, he wiped his hands on the towel next to the bowl and jumped into the bed before Malik could make a mad dash for it. The assassin tucked his hands neatly behind his head as his body immediately melted against the soft bedding and grinned triumphantly, "I win. You get the duvet, enjoy."

"You're willing to sleep next to a woman you abhor?" he asked skeptically to his craftiness at stealing the spot but after the endless climbing the man had done, Malik relinquished his candidacy. Being a bachelor, Malik was accustomed to being the only one in bed and just like Altaïr traveled over the bed to steal the covers for himself, Vivian always sought to latch onto someone in her subconscious sleep so he was best left alone. Malik was the best companion to take a nap beside since snoring was the most he did and didn't have the tendency to roll over to crush someone. Poor Vivian would wake with sore limbs by the morning.

"My friend, I'm just as surprised as you are but after facing the elements at every inn while you and Vivian share a bed- it's _my_ time" he replied casually with a smug grin as he pulled down his white hood to relax for the night, closing his eyes briefly to enjoy the idyllic moment. He sorely needed a bath and wondered where it was since Vivian had already had the pleasure (her squeaky clean hair a dead giveaway) but hoped the bathwater wasn't filthy. That would sorely kill his chances at bathing happily. He waved a dismissive hand as Malik washed his hands in the bowl to rid himself of the oils on his fingers and watched as his leader stated cheekily, "Besides, I keep her in check while you let her do as she wishes. For all I know, you'll be proposing marriage by dawn or letting her adopt a stray dog to bring along."

Malik's figurative feathers were ruffled to his friend's insinuation, resisting the urge to dump the greasy water over his head, and disagreed, "You think my self-control is weaker than yours? The mere idea is laughable . . . and she's like a sister- it sounds wrong on _many_ levels!"

The dai left the grinning assassin so he could fix his own bed on the couch-like furniture (at least it was roomy) and grabbed a bundle of linen blankets that Vivian had removed from the bed to unfold them. One thing about having a second arm was the ease of fixing bedcovers but now, he simply used his legs to wrap them around his body comfortably. In Masyaf, he was neat with his bedding or had a recruit do it for him as a chore but away from home, it didn't matter. Altaïr fiddled through his leather pack to fetch his night clothes and a handy bar of soap to take a bath with, the soap falling out of his hand when the dai declared smugly, "You're just jealous that she abhors you while I am her favorite on this trip."

Altaïr's ego was poked with a hot stick, stirring the sleeping eagle from its nest, and he retorted, "I already have her friendship . . . we just seem to use banter for our conversations. But for the record, my life exists as a fictional story so for one who knows much, she must find me interesting by default."

Malik didn't take the bait because his words proved that he wasn't as irritated as he normally appeared with the woman and hid the humor in his voice as he stated nonchalantly with a grin, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Altaïr. I'm almost inclined to believe you _want_ to become her friend."

Altaïr was ready to debate that topic to the death but Vivian returned wearing loose black trousers that swept over the floor with their long length and a brown tunic. She'd explained a while back that women could dress that way for sleeping in her time but since she was sharing a room with them, he made an exception since she stuck to gowns inside her private tent. She appeared like an adolescent boy as the clothes fit her petite frame rather loosely, completely hiding her feminine figure as her face and fingers displayed her gender. Her shoulder-length ebony hair had finished drying from her bath and framed her oval face in wavy tendrils, sharply contrasting those emerald orbs filled with mirth. He'd never noticed how small her feet were as she walked barefoot across the floor, certain that one would fit in his hand easily and raised his gaze back to hers to state simply, "You look like a prepubescent boy."

"And you're a giant" she quipped back with a good-natured laugh just as easily since she wasn't about to be wearing any naughty nightwear to bed and was happy in the loose clothing. Instead of receiving a frown, she saw a smirk forming on his lips and wondered whether that was a 'good job' or an 'I'll get you' smirk. The tension he'd held earlier in the day was gone from his face and she was glad for it, not eager to sleep next to a tiger on the prowl.

He stood up from the bed with regret from his aching shoulders and grabbed his bundle of fresh clothes to inform his companions, "I'll be in the bath. If I don't come out in an hour, you have permission to check whether I've drowned due to exhaustion."

"Permission to resuscitate by mouth-to-mouth without receiving a punch?" Vivian piped up quickly with a mischievous smile as she rolled back the long sleeves of the tunic. Altaïr decided to make his bath quick before he did end up in a compromising position with the woman that would bring him mortification till his dying day. He gave her a steadfast negative as he headed to the back of the room where a wooden bath was located, another curtain providing privacy but splashing would still be heard. For Altaïr, this was a natural everyday way of bathing while it unnerved Vivian to how close everything was inside the room- that, and the lack of doors.

Vivian tried not to dwell on what would occur behind that lucky curtain because a muscular assassin dousing himself in sudsy warm water was enough to skip her normal heart rhythm and leave her drooling permanently. She shook her head to clear those lecherous thoughts away because although it was all in good fun and fangirly moments, she couldn't dare to actually form any sort of feelings for the man. It was easier to prevent that by using her sarcastic defense and his constant frowning helped tremendously since being together 24/7 could grant her immunity.

"I can empty some of the water and fill it so you won't have to bear with all our daily muck, especially Altaïr's" Vivian offered helpfully with a smile as she bundled their packs in a corner of the room to prevent tripping over them at night. She and Malik had been unlucky participants on a trip to the floor during stays at inns since Altaïr tended to leave his clutter all over the floor and they weren't granted eagle vision to pierce the darkness. Whenever Malik appeared to need help, she offered without question since having to ask could make someone feel inadequate internally and she wanted to help her friend without requiring communication. It was a sisterly act that helped the two bond since the dai helped her on many topics to fit into society since Altaïr was already occupied enough with his own tasks.

Malik headed to the changing curtain with his bundle of gray sleepwear tucked underneath his arm and yawned softly to decline, "I'll take one in the morning, I'm much too tired. It will keep me fresh against the morning heat when we retrieve the canoe."

Vivian nodded hastily and returned to her bed with eager feet, throwing herself onto it with childish glee for the soft bedding. Smooth hay or not, it wasn't the hard ground that contained tiny pebbles that dug into her back and she couldn't believe just how far she'd gone down from that modern comfortable mattress in her room. Her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the drawers of the night tables to peruse through the contents hidden within as she ached to know what Egyptians kept there for their guests. A few random buttons, clean paper, and little straps of leather- she swiped them all with a sneaky little smile. Malik watched her quiet perusing when he exited the changing room as she sorted through the drawers but said nothing because once she was in the zone of looting, it was hard to make her stop. When she popped open the third drawer, Vivian forced herself not to take anything because she was well on her way to full-blown kleptomania (and a stern Altaïr lecture) but her discovery brought her immense joy.

A hairbrush!

At Masyaf, Malik had given her a wooden comb that the men used to comb their hair since women were rarely seen inside Masyaf unless they were spouses or secret informants. They didn't have time to visit the village since the two had been ready to depart the following morning and Vivian could barely grab hold of any decent items to fill her leather knapsack with. Now, she carried three like the packrat she was and drew stares from travelers everywhere since women weren't supposed to carry heavy things while resembling a tortoise.

Happily, she brushed her dry hair to free it of tangles and smiled widely as the fine hairs went through every strand of her tresses rather than the comb that slid through it all. Malik let her be with her new discovery and headed towards his duvet, throwing his day clothes over one end and grabbed the blankets to settle into bed. The material of the duvet was softer than anything he'd been on in months, probably even softer than his own bed at Masyaf, and smiled like a happy little boy as he wrapped the blankets around himself. He'd be glad to sleep for eight hours this time and hoped Altaïr wouldn't make them wake at the crack of dawn.

Altaïr didn't take long in his bath, washing away all of the sweat and grime gathered from his daily travel but the lukewarm water barely soothed his tired muscles. Either way, having a clean body was better than carrying all of it into the next day and he had tried not to slip on the puddles Vivian left in her wake because the woman had yet to adjust to bathing in their time. She was like a child with her washing and he removed that image from his head immediately before it burned his mind. One thing he appreciated was that she always carried a bottle of oil containing a mix of almond and lavender to use on her skin during their travels, grabbing the bottle she'd left behind next to the wooden tub. He loved using it since the windy desert had left his skin feeling parched and the aromatic scents soothed him instantly, relaxing his muscles as he rubbed it into his skin to work out any knots. She was always reading books on natural remedies as they traveled, heading into market stalls to ask for any, and reminded himself to fetch her one when they hit another settlement.

The lack of his light armor and robes was a relief as he slipped into his clothes for the night, feeling like an ordinary man in the world for the next hour until he fell asleep. With his robes folded neatly in his arms, he returned to the room to find half of the glass lanterns extinguished as Malik had decided to turn in for the night while Vivian sat with a content smile on her face. Why wasn't he surprised? She swung a small hair brush made of dark horse hair and hopped off the bed to approach him with a jovial smile to her new find, "Look what I found."

"Yes, it's called a hairbrush, a very nice invention of ours" the assassin informed sarcastically to her child-like glee over something trivial and she gently struck his left shoulder blade with the brush. Did he really think they lacked hair brushes in her time? He tried to wrench it out of her hands with his right as he dropped his robes at the end of the bed before they fell but she wriggled out of his reach as she ran for it, her bare feet making no sound as she scuttled off.

Malik smirked to their antagonistic behavior as it provided decent entertainment and bid them good night because he wasn't getting involved, "I wish you both a very peaceful night and won't be held responsible for any deaths."

Vivian held the hairbrush like a lion tamer would their whip as Altaïr uttered a small growl before stomping off to put away his clothes on the nearest chair. Her brow rose curiously when she watched him place his clothes on a wooden chair with care, his fingers neatly smoothing out any wrinkles. She let him be with his nightly routine and returned to cuddling the bed, thanking the Egyptians for their more comfortable mattresses than those in other places she'd been to. For the private moment left to her, she rested in the center of the bed on her stomach as she spread out her limbs like a lazy sunbathing starfish.

"Please don't dust off your clothes until the morning" Vivian murmured softly as the comfortable bedding beckoned her to dreamland where she'd run alongside fat succulent sheep. By lunchtime tomorrow, she'd be eating a part of that poor animal since Altaïr had an affinity for lamb while grains or chicken was used for dinner for a lighter meal. Truly, she was eating foods she never would've in her own time and promised to hit the nearest Syrian and Egyptian restaurant when she returned to Berkeley in a toast to her adventures. For now, however, she'd pretend to be a starfish in the middle of a sandy beach with the stars twinkling above her.

That's how Altaïr found her when he returned to bed and he jabbed a rough finger into her ribs to get her moving because if anyone would hog the bed, it would be him. She squeaked in surprise to his intrusive poke to her right side and turned around to grasp his hand between both of hers to stop a further onslaught. If he discovered she was ticklish, she'd never see the end of it because his reach and strength outmatched hers. His fingers were calloused from years of climbing and fighting, contrasting against her smooth palms with their roughness and she gasped with a hearty laugh to the texture, "Good lord, your hands are like sandpaper. You should use them against enemies, rub their skin raw or give them a bad rash."

Malik burst into laughter from his spot across the room to the strange fighting tactic and teased playfully, "Hands to yourselves, I don't want any friskiness between you two because I'm quite fond of my sanity. With that said, I bid you goodnight and leave me be."

Vivian chuckled to his joke as she moved to the side to settle into a fetal position while the assassin fell onto the bed on his back, dropping like a sack of potatoes despite wearing no armor. He didn't realize how tired he really was until he blew out the lantern next to him to bathe the entire room in darkness and his muscles ached at the single movement, not caring in the slightest as he collapsed into the bed again. She jabbed his lower leg with a defiant foot as he sunk the mattress with that force and almost knocked her into his side, grasping a blanket for herself since he'd stolen all of them the last time they slept in the same bed. He was a messy Bessy with his bed, leaving it like a tornado had blown through everything but he was meticulous enough to fix it perfectly in its original position by morning.

A hint of almond struck her nose and she smiled into her pillow to whisper sneakily, "You smell nice. . .like a sweet freshly picked almond baked-"

"No descriptive tales tonight, Vivian" Altaïr hushed from his side of the bed as he lay on his back and ran his fingers through his damp short hair, not in the mood to hear descriptive stories. The quick cool bath and the warm bedding were the perfect end result of a hard day's work and he'd start studying the new piece of Eden once they left Egypt to make sure nobody interfered.

Vivian grumbled under her breath as her fun came to an end for the day, shifting in her cozy bedcovers as she mumbled sleepily, "Fine, but I will redeem this conversation one day when you least expect it. You will be sleeping and _pow!_- there I am holding a fish that I used to slap you with and inquire its history. Or should you be napping in camp, _bam!_- I wake you to regale you with a tale fit for kings. Or maybe-"

"I open the window and toss you out to sleep with the chickens?" he quipped in return with a stern tone because with Vivian, he'd damn well better expect it. Luckily, his detection skills would find her before she even came close to approaching him and he had in several instances. The first had been a week after leaving Masyaf and she'd tried to use a feather to tickle his nose to make him sneeze. She'd failed when he threw a small pebble at her, stopping her dead in her tracks as it struck her straight in the center of the forehead. The second had been before entering Egypt when he refused a visit to a bookstore, disappointing both Malik and Vivian, and they'd taken revenge by stealing his armor at night to hide it throughout camp. With Malik's help, his detection failed to catch her and it was only a matter of time before the duo attempted another try because he was a stickler for keeping on schedule without detours.

Either way, the badger was silenced and he closed his eyes to fall asleep.

Moonlight filtered into the pitch black room and when Vivian was certain Malik was asleep (it wasn't hard to hear him), she smiled cheekily and scratched an itchy spot on her butt that had been bugging her. Night certainly did offer freedoms and privacy that the daytime couldn't. Altaïr, however, had failed to fall asleep within those fifteen minutes that she'd meticulously waited for as exhaustion slowly trickled him to slumber and the noise down _there_ had drawn his attention immediately. Why. . ._why_ was this happening to him? He stared at the ceiling with wide disbelieving eyes, refusing to glance at her to avoid seeing something indecent if he switched to eagle vision and requested stiffly between gritted teeth, "Could you finish that quickly? I'm still awake."

She flinched in mortified surprise since he usually fell dead like a toy without its batteries whenever the lights turned off and quickly scooted back to her sleeping position to begin sleeping. Her ears burned at the horrible embarrassment that he'd heard that but the damage was done and thankfully, the itch had been vanquished. Unfortunately, her mind had other ideas and she lay in bed wide awake while the other two slept soundly to wipe their long day out of their minds. She probably shouldn't have eaten so close to bedtime but what could she do after. . .by Dumbledore's beard did that assassin smell wonderful. She growled mentally for having that thought burst in since she couldn't close her nose and hoped her own scent was bothering hm. Had the man basted himself in the oil like a chicken and glistened. . .no, she would _not_ head in that tantalizing direction either!

After the assassin did fall asleep, she missed Malik sharing the bed since his snoring was lighter than Altaïr's and she groaned miserably into her soft pillow at having to sleep next to the bear man. She'd experienced this during her first day in Jerusalem and had only managed about three hours of sleep before he'd kicked her awake. How could the strong admirable Maria dare to brave this monstrous snoring for the rest of her days? Would she grow deaf and blissfully immune to his nagging? He sounded like an old rusty shredder that had swallowed metal rubble and a furious bear was trapped inside _that_ metal. For all of his awesomeness and badassery, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad had a thunderous snore to match.

She mumbled pitifully under her breath but yelped aloud the next second when Altaïr struck her in the eye subconsciously with his fisted left hand as he mumbled, "Templars."

She held her eye painfully since the man dealt some serious firepower in his strike despite being asleep and rubbed her sore skin, pushing back tears as it throbbed. Sitting up, she cursed her luck because she'd more than likely need a hood to cover it up by morning and wondered just how strong the man was if that little unconscious swat left her staggering with pain. In her anger, she pulled her right arm back and punched him on the opposite side so he would match her 'more than likely' purple eye. It wasn't strong enough to match his, not even slightly, but it managed to do the trick just fine. He bolted awake to the immediate strike, hands lashing out to attack his invisible enemy as he used his eagle vision but only saw Vivian's bluish-white outline in the dark room and hissed irately, "Vivian! What is the matter with you?!"

"You _punched_ me, you tool!" she shot back with the same rage because being punched by the assassin wasn't part of the awesomeness deal and gently massaged her poor skin. Ugh, why hadn't trade spread the derivative ingredients of aspirin to Egypt? A headache would undoubtedly form if swelling was involved and her feet kicked his legs under the covers in fussiness as she justified her little swat, "I was only getting comeuppance so you match."

Altaïr found himself baffled to her claim because he'd never expected (nor wanted) to strike anyone in that manner and asked slowly, "I punched you? Are you certain?"

"No, I punched myself in the eye for fun" she retorted sarcastically as she wiped away stray tears leaking from her poor eye and hoped he hadn't damaged anything. Optometrists were practically nonexistent in their time and damaging a cornea was not in her plans for adventuring because it would hinder her life. The lack of glasses in their time would make anyone of near or farsightedness cry in shame because they'd definitely need the assassin to play as their guide when their sight began to change with time. Anger wouldn't help anything and she forced herself to calm down since the poor man didn't know what he'd unintentionally done and restated gently, "You accidentally hit me in your sleep when I wanted to move. I'm pretty sure you were either maiming or being maimed by Templars since you were mumbling about them."

He wiped the sleep from his eyes while being flooded with guilt for accidentally causing her pain. Throughout his life, he'd experienced moments that not all humans were privy to and maybe his mind happened to channel all of that into something physical when he was asleep. Vivian called it psychology; he called it a pain in the ass. She caught his outline in the dark as the filtering moonlight illuminated his silhouette, his ruffled short hair humorously defined in messy wisps, and he sighed softly in apology, "I'm sorry, Vivian. After spending my entire life as an assassin, there are some instincts that simply cling in the depths of my mind and lash out."

"Are you okay?" her simple question was one he hadn't heard often since the order looked to _him_ to answer questions rather than the other way around. He'd always been on his own due to the way Al Mualim kept the order isolated and he'd grown up to solve his own problems however he could while keeping to the creed. Vivian's words struck him because he had no answer for that and he rarely opened himself to divulge his secrets, not keen on being vulnerable.

"I can deal with-"

She placed her hand over his mouth to silence his denial (and impertinence) to ask firmly, "Hear my question, Altaïr. Are you _okay_? You dealt with a lot today."

She wasn't one to quit, was she? He wanted to tell her that it was his private business only but after punching the poor woman and seeing her current sympathetic face, he stirred the thoughts in his head for an answer. It was easier to blame her for making him feel guilty than opening himself for critique but he was destined for a little self-searching and critical thinking once in a while.

"I. . .I'm frustrated, worried, exhausted. . .I wish I could sleep for years but there is a lot required of me" he admitted faintly as he brushed his hands through his hair, his brow furrowing to glare at the dark ceiling for being put in a situation he had no control over. He would've been happy with a leader that hadn't betrayed him or threatened the existence of their order and could keep eliminating enemies that weren't searching for weapons that could control an entire society. Unfortunately, destiny had decided that his life would be anything but easy and he sighed dully, "And apparently, I punched you so we should be looking at that."

"I'll live, I'm sure your subconscious is laughing hysterically" she chuckled softly since the pain would pass but wondered how she'd cover up the marks without anyone thinking Altaïr or Malik beat her. Ancient times usually overlooked such treatment since just about any reason would warrant such behavior towards women but didn't want him dwelling over it. She shifted in her spot on the bed to smooth out any lumps in the mattress that poked her back and yawned softly with encouragement, "You can sleep all you want once we're back on the Nile-"

"Ugh, don't remind me" he grumbled since he'd been tugging that canoe everywhere until his arms fell asleep to freeze in place and the seasickness wasn't alluring him in the slightest. Why couldn't land travel be faster? He cursed modern technology, wishing the bodies of water on Earth and its dangerous depths never existed. The days away from the river had been a wonderful blessing and he abhorred having to return to the river tomorrow morning, his brow lightly furrowing to the sinisterly calm waves of the Nile. His self-control was impeccable as he allowed nothing to thwart or frighten him from his goal but the tips of his fingers twitched at the thought of falling into the river when they journeyed through rough patches. Chasing away the negative thoughts, he bundled into the blankets to keep warm but failed to do so since he wasn't alone in the bed this time. Not wanting to tear the rest away from Vivian and accidentally kick her out of bed during the night for not having his way, he quietly asked, "Do we have any extra blankets? I'm a bit cold."

"No problem" she replied amicably since the poor assassin needed his rest and would bear his bed hogging to keep him happy for tonight. After all, he kept her safe from danger (boy, was it everywhere nowadays) and she was finding herself enjoying his company as a traveling companion rather than the dangerous assassin he was. Leaning over the left side of the bed, she grabbed her plump travel pack to pop it open and fish for a warm pair of blankets. Airing them out towards the side to prevent any sneezing from gathered dust, she handed them over because waking to an assassin with the sniffles wouldn't be pretty. That, and she'd always held a preconceived notion that the man was immune to the power of microscopic germs.

His first instinct was to huddle underneath the covers to swaddle himself in warmth but relented half of it to allow Vivian entrance if she grew cold during the night. Of course, if she dared to trespass into his personal space, he'd pull those blankets right back to his own side. He grabbed a dagger hidden underneath his pillow, which he always kept for nighttime protection whenever he traveled, and leaned over her to press the clean metal hilt against her eye. Vivian squeaked immediately to the touch of cold metal touching her skin and he reared back from the response when she squirmed away. Her hands rose in protest to his unknown intentions, his eardrums irritated by her soft feline hisses as she objected shrewdly, "Would you give a girl a warning before bringing _weapons_ into bed? Nine times out of ten, someone will lose an eye."

"Just because you state a statistic, it doesn't make it true" he pointed out sharply about her random facts or tendency to correct him, trying to keep her arguing hissing to a minimum. True, he granted her the reasoning that springing forth a weapon without declaring his purpose could shift anyone into immediate defense.

"But it _sounds_ true and in this day and age, very likely" she reasoned simply while batting away his hands that held the sheathed dagger, keeping him at bay to whatever he was aiming for. She'd already caught him playing with a knife in camp during one boring morning, his dexterous hand jabbing endlessly at the empty spaces between his fingers with a lazy frown while her heart hammered at the thought of him losing an appendage in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't keen on learning the easy and _safe_ games of her time, feigning sleep when she'd attempted to play hide-and-seek or 'charades'. Of course, when she'd tapped him on the back to play tag, he'd hunted her down relentlessly like a poor foal until she was face down in the dirt while he stood victoriously and demanded another game. She never thought she'd fear playing that children's game but the man was unstoppable once he was 'it'.

"Shut up and press it against your eye, the cold metal will help" he ordered briskly, swatting away her protesting hands and she lay down on her back to grudgingly obey rather than bolting from the bed. Leave it to ruthless thieves to change antagonistic behavior into jesting fellowship that allowed the two to be convivial rather than rude. She allowed him to touch her stinging skin with the metal because she couldn't see whether it was sheathed or not (it was) and he stated knowingly, "And a smart man will always carry a knife."

The cold metal did indeed feel good against her throbbing skin, causing a small sigh to leave her lips as the pain dulled to the cold overwhelming her skin receptors. It wasn't an ice pack but a decent alternative when stuck in ancient times during the dead of night. Her fingertips touched his to move the hilt lower to the side where the outer corners of the eye socket hurt most, mumbling quietly for the kind gesture, "Thanks. I can now add this to my craziest moments list. . .it's quickly becoming a book."

She twisted the hilt over to the other side when the metal became warm and no longer numbed her skin, sighing softly, "One mission down and many to go, depending where my route for home is at. You can't answer any of my questions but I can answer yours, to a limit, of course."

One question itched at his mind since speaking with the mysterious being (well, it was more of a one-sided conversation) but it had nothing to do with his future or goal. Vivian had been quite prudent about divulging any specific facts about his future path, remaining ambiguous to a point he was ready to shake her upside down by the feet for answers but he respected her stance- it was for his benefit. He took the same safe road as he asked slowly with caution, "What did she mean by the ending of the world?"

Vivian quietly explained what Minerva had spoken, sharing her own interpretations of her speech, and waited for his input while praying to whatever force in the universe that existed that time wouldn't implode that very second. Each time she spoke on details about the future sent a bundle of nerves to her stomach at the thought of the repercussions but she wasn't the boss of Altaïr and was certain he'd find a way to pry tidbits from her mind. She found herself immensely relieved when he simply listened to her, asking no questions whatsoever to keep her on point to his question without derailing to another topic. By the end of it all, he regretted asking it because imagining the world engulfed by flames and Templars running amok with pieces of Eden in their vile hands wasn't what he pictured for the future. So much for an idyllic future where his order held the advantage and didn't have to fear burning into a pile of ashes. He exhaled a dismal sigh through his nose because things didn't seem chipper centuries from now and commented wryly, "Perfect, not only must I help my descendants uncover this sorcery within the piece but save life itself?"

He fell back against the bed to rub his face in exhaustion, leaving her with the blade's hilt over her eye, and Vivian mumbled out words of encouragement, "Well, you and I will be long gone by that time so do what you can because I'm not ruining the future by giving you your inventions or blurting out your future. However, I will make humorous quips to ire you."

She yawned softly into her free hand and piped up helpfully to boost his morale, "Look at the bright side, you'll be free flying star stuff and I'm from another dimension- oh god, this sounds like a bad fan fiction but I'm living it."

That. . .didn't help at _all_.

The short snort distinctly told her she was better off staying quiet and she finished hastily, "It's not the best I can offer at this hour but my brain is practically goo after today's adventuring-"

"I still feel responsible for the path they will all lead, given that the last one is my great-great. . ._many_ greats' grandson" Altaïr stated quietly with solemnity to the life he would lead and all those within his bloodline, especially at having his codex confiscated through the passage of time. If he could create a trap that would slice off the hands of Templars only at an immediate touch, he would do so. Instead, all he could do was fight his hardest to survive and hope that everything he accomplished would be enough. . .even if it only added a tiny grain of sand to tip the scales in the assassins' favor to preserve a future free of Templar influence.

"At least you made yourself quite a nice diverse lineage" she complimented approvingly since their mission had gone splendidly successful and there wasn't anything he could do to change the future. Altaïr had practically become the Star Wars example of 'The Chosen One', except he wouldn't go all psycho and turn to the dark side, but he tried his best to persevere against the obstacles set against him. He'd managed to make a decent lineage all the way to Desmond so that was the most important part because he had to carve his own path outside of his ancestors. Never did she envision that getting laid would lead one on the road to saving humankind. . .oh man, the humorous fanfictions she could write about Ezio using that line to charm women's pantaloons off. She grinned impishly to the humorous anecdotes she could've created in his time to share jabs with the Casanova and snickered, "Man, now that's a destiny I could get behind- er, _in front of_."

"You're destroying the dignity left in this discussion with your lecherously inappropriate thoughts" he chastised quietly since his culture and time forbid such language, especially to the fairer sex. Unfortunately, Vivian was able to slip past that social rule in private where he allowed her free reign and reminded himself to carry a cloth he could stuff in her mouth when she rambled about subjects he didn't care to lend an ear for.

Vivian couldn't help but sympathize because it took a great amount of willpower not to be driven insane or have a mental breakdown from reality with the immense pressure on his shoulders. Between assassinating and making sure his order stayed alive, there were still other responsibilities he had (there were many times she had to remind him to simply eat). She didn't see how one would want to become an assassin in that lifetime or even during Desmond's due to the stressful turbulence. Yes, it was nice to play one in a video game where you could respawn continuously and perform acrobatic moves that would normally leave you in the care of a chiropractor for years to come but when it came down to the harsh reality, ripping into someone's flesh and climbing buildings with the hope that you wouldn't be fatally shot in the back by an arrow wasn't a comforting way to live. Not to mention, knowing you had to constantly look over your shoulder for enemies and hope one of your colleagues wasn't a double spy was enough to suck the sleep out of you.

"There's only so much you can do in one life" she whispered kindly since he protected his people fiercely but it was time to put all of those worries aside for another day and settled on her left side to yawn quietly, "Now, let's get some shut-eye because we need it for tomorrow."

"My dagger?" he requested simply and she handed it over with a sheepish 'whoopsie', forgetting she still had it pressed comfortably against her eye. Vivian and weapons were never a good mix due to her lack of skill but leaving her with his dagger would backfire horribly if somebody decided to barge in to attack them. Somehow, he doubted her petite height and a dagger with a hilt too large for her hand would frighten anybody away. Tucking it safely away under his pillow where it would stay for easy access, he murmured faintly with exhaustion as he closed his eyes for the night, "Until tomorrow, Vivian. . .and thank you for listening."

"That's what I'm here for, I might not understand your life the way you do but I will listen to any of your concerns because we all need support in one way or another" she whispered softly to empathize with his troubles and hoped their small chat helped somewhat, settling onto her side to fall asleep with her new purple eye. Well, at least she could claim it as a battle scar and bask in awe that it was from the mighty hand of Altaïr Ibn. . .crap, she forgot how to pronounce the rest.

* * *

When morning came, the master assassin woke to a bright sunny room that chirped with birds outside and resembled a television commercial fit for aromatic laundry detergent. Altaïr, however, wished he had a bucket of water to throw at them to drown the melodic sound and a strip of cloth to cover his eyes from the filtering sunlight. All in all, he was a little fussy that morning. He found Malik hanging halfway off the duvet as he resembled a living mummy and a soft lump next to Altaïr told him Vivian had annoyingly huddled next to him, with arms entwined around his left arm. Great, he'd unknowingly adopted a leech onto his limb overnight. Frowning at the unwelcome and uncomfortable touch as she breached his personal space, he heard her mumble faintly, "No, we take the boat to the Atlantic, Ezio. Captain Jack Sparrow does the job!"

Her arms tightened constrictively around Altaïr as she sighed with delight in her sleep and he prayed she wasn't dreaming something scandalous. Please, let his name never leave her lips unless he was skewering something. This was not how he wanted to wake in the morning and his lips parted with offended surprise when she murmured slowly with delight in her voice, "Mmm, you're ten times better than Altaïr. Plushy too."

Instead of peeling her off like a contagious cloth, he demanded aloud with irritancy to nobody in particular, "Who the blazes is Jack Sparrow and Ezio?"

He was getting pretty tired of all these anonymous men he kept hearing about throughout their travels (conscious ramblings or not). . .and the ridiculous notion that they were _better_ than him. His hubris over the creed and others was gone from his character, yes, but he still took pride in his attained skills like any ordinary man. He wasn't called the grand master or a master assassin for nothing, after all.

"Get up, you insolent woman" Altaïr ordered sharply when he felt that arm falling asleep from the lack of circulation and pulled it from her grip, leading her to reach for him immediately with a longing groan. Her fingers blindly searched for his arm and he sighed into the air, almost mulling the idea to sate her need but thought better of it. No, he was _not_ a pacifying toy! They needed to leave quickly before anyone began asking questions about the bodies hidden around the pyramid's perimeter and the sooner they left, the safer they'd be.

With that in mind, he pinched her nose to wake the badger from her sleep and whatever ludicrous dreams dwelled there.

* * *

**A/N**: On a fun whim, I decided to plug in Vivian's and Altaïr's horoscopes and I found myself rather stunned to find their personalities matched exactly to how I'd written her and Ubisoft's characterization of the assassin. I loved this part I found online: _'Both Capricorn man and Scorpio woman understand each other more than they let the other one think they do. She possibly knows him better than he knows himself. He may seem cold and stubborn on the surface, but she knows that deep down there is an ache that hurts just as much as anyone else when he needs to be loved. Since he is stubborn, it should probably be Scorpio woman who steps forward and tries to help things along. Capricorn male becomes even more stubborn and draws back further within himself at first, but over a bit of time and some gentle persuasion by Scorpio woman, he starts to unclench his fists and ease himself out of the intensity he buries himself into. Her constant reassurance to him is the key to keep the harmony and smoothness in their relationship. Similarly, it is not easy to get into the heart of a Scorpio woman, but Capricorn man's brilliant smile and sparkling eyes do it almost every time. When she is her normal and happy self again, a mere smile is all her Capricorn man needs to know that she is okay. His protection over her intensifies with time as is his heart.' _Seriously, I almost fell out of my chair in laughter since the two have already shared these hilarious scenarios and will continue to.

Aside from my little discovery, the group will be leaving Giza now to depart once more over the Nile to head south to Uganda to find the next piece of Eden. I've been extremely busy this semester with finishing my nursing prerequisites and can take a small load off at knowing I passed their exam to enter the program while unknowingly earning an associate's degree in natural science (October has been awesome this year).

A sincere thanks to everyone who has this story on alert and has dropped off a review, I loved reading them while stressing like a madwoman:

_ihas no clue_: Malik can do no wrong, can he? Unlike a certain cantankerous assassin.

_KHR-Fan_: Given Altaïr's time frame, he seems to me the type of man that shows his affection through actions rather than Ezio's charming approach and flirtations- which is why I want to see him cook dinner and sharpen her weapons. Lol. As for the trip, Altaïr will hate the water travel while everyone will dislike the arid lands and settlements filled with unsavory people (thieves, slavers, Templars). There's a bunch of POE's all over the world (even underwater), it took me a very long time to decide what continent I wanted Altaïr and his group to cover. I really wanted to do Asia but since he travels there in later life, abandoned the idea to keep to the timeline and Europe has been explored by Ezio so I decided to take on Africa.

_KrnYong_: Since she helped him, Altaïr decided to throw the poor woman a freebie while she avoided a fangasm to his compliment. Malik is just finding all sorts of humorous ways to make light of his missing arm and it's even better when it makes Altaïr grumpy. Back in ancient times, people didn't live long due to illnesses and their surroundings so I was surprised to hear that Altaïr lived into his 90s while poor Ezio died a few years into retirement in his 60s.

_Another fan_: Wow, thank you for the kind words on our witty Vivian and the two famous assassins. As for the songs, I try my hardest to make them hilarious and glad you love them. We'll be seeing their return in the next chapter but I'm glad you didn't skim through the chapters and absorbed each word like a happy sponge. Lol. I didn't want to follow the old 'let's replay AC1' format since we all know the missions and wanted to explore Altaïr past that so that's where I decided to place Vivian. He'll be making fun of Vivian's entry into his world later on since the poor girl is still hanging onto logic and science for answers.

_Nightingale123_: I'm glad to know you love the story and Vivian hasn't grated on anyone's nerves, to my relief. With the AC world being very serious with the life-death situations, we need humor and poor Vivian makes a good scapegoat for Altaïr. I hope you loved this chapter as well.

_Galaxytrain_: Aw, I love hearing thank you's for writing each of my stories so thank you for being so polite. I'm glad you love the story, I put my best effort into each and love hearing feedback from my readers. I hope you enjoyed this update!

_ShizukaRen_-_Hime_: Maria's quote came from my own experience in playing, I hated climbing all the way up there and chucked Altaïr from the top of any house to the lower levels- even if my health bar suffered. I had to give Altaïr a softer side (if possible) since he does appreciate sincere help and I see him as a subtle romancer with little words that pack meaning and actions that speak even louder, which we'll see later on as the story progresses. Now that their mission in Giza is over, he's more relaxed and free to figuratively poke Vivian to rile her while Malik will ignore the two to enjoy a snack. Thank you for the words on my writing, I'm glad I can keep the same style as in previous chapters.

_Lonerwolf1015_: Humor is truly a good weapon to wield, especially when you're Vivian.

_LoliMochi_: Thank you for showing such reading dedication to my fanfic, I love it! You could always use the AC Wikipedia to learn everything you need to in a super quick way since I use it when I need to brush up on a few facts I've forgotten. The three are a good blend since Altaïr is the resilient no-nonsense leader, Malik is the peacemaker and levelheaded one, and Vivian lightens tense situations with her witty facts. I love your quote 'She is the total opposite of a Mary Sue, yet in a way she is a Mary Sue because everyone can't help but love her' since I've tried to make her as any everyday girl with a good head on her shoulders and good-natured humor. Like any person, she has flaws that need work (except her singing, she's not getting any better) just like each of us.

_Guest_: Thanks for loving the story, I appreciate it!

* * *

**Next Time**: _Altair and Vivian's Aunt Flo_

Vivian counted herself lucky that she was currently on water travel, thanking her lucky stars a million times that her current predicament didn't begin back in Giza. It all started on one fine morning when the chirpy tweeting of birds woke her up in horrible pain and she realized, with great embarrassing horror, that her monthly visitor had reared its ugly head. Why, oh, _why_ was she stranded in time with that physiological time bomb? It was times like this that she yearned to be a man so she could avoid that iffy subject altogether since she traveled with men who knew nothing about it!

The fact that her sleeping gown and bedroll was stained didn't help matters in the slightest when she scrambled to her pack to fish out the items she'd prepared ahead of time. When a modern day girl was lost in time, she would not procrastinate on important things like _this_. . .especially when in the company of a suspicious assassin. There was a reason she scampered over to hygienic stands during travel and spent her meager coin on whatever she could stock up on to avoid any embarrassing incidents.

With her heart jumping in her throat, she'd practically flown to the river with her items to wash her gown squeaky clean and tidied her poor appearance before someone caught her. Otherwise, she'd have a very hard time explaining that she hadn't been stabbed or killed someone while taking a stroll to the riverbank. After that short crisis was averted, she returned back to camp with a mixture of horrible symptoms to find the bloodhound known as Altaïr making rounds around camp. Why had he picked _this_ precise time frame to make his perimeter scans? Hollywood couldn't make films this suspenseful.

Quickly, she fought down the sharp pain that jolted to her abdomen as she met him before he could wander into her tent and piped up cheerfully, "Good morning, fellow adventurer-"

"Where have you been?" he demanded suspiciously as he spotted the bundle of clothes in her arms and she smiled innocently, quickly mumbling out she'd showered. This, of course, sent off alarms in his mind because her hair was dry as hay and she wasn't shivering in the slightest. She headed into her tent hastily, dumping her items to the side carelessly as she dove for her bedroll to hide it but Altaïr's perfect vision caught sight of the crimson spot.

_Why_ was that there?!

Before she could fold the roll in half to hide it, he was pulling at her left leg to reveal what she'd hidden from him but she wasn't budging. She defied his pulling with the ferociousness of a badger because she wasn't ready to face further mortification under his scrutiny. He grit his teeth to her audacity as he tugged the feisty woman with all of his might to pull her away and he snapped sharply, "What happened? Who or what harmed you? Where are they? Answer or-"

"Let go, you Balrog of Morgoth!" she hissed defiantly to his irate demands and wiggled both legs to break free, remembering the night at the inn. The assassin shook her one more time before dropping her onto her bed and she turned the roll over to its squeaky clean side. Could this become any more mortifying? Scratch that, she didn't want to jinx it and have Malik burst in with the same flurry of questions. Curiosity glimmered in her eyes since she could've pinned the blame on killing an intruding animal (not that he'd believe her) and she asked, "Wait, why did you think I was hurt?"

"I heard shuffling and running towards the bank, I was sewing a pair of trousers when I heard it" he explained matter-of-factly between thinned lips that clearly showed he wanted answers and wasn't handing out his own. After all, he stumbled onto this unexpected scene and required answers as the troop leader rather than a runaround. He waved an indignant finger to point to the bedroll that had printed a permanent picture into his brain and snapped firmly, "Not to mention, that puddle right there that's hard to ignore!"

Vivian smiled impishly at the image of him sewing because she'd never seen him do such a thing since they started traveling, only cleaning. He didn't like that cunning little smile on her face since she was crafty at avoiding topics and she teased with a sweet voice, "Isn't that cute? I didn't think you could sew."

"Woman, there's a lot of things you don't know that could fill a library" he retorted back because most traveling men knew a thing or two about sewing clothing. Otherwise, they'd stumble into towns with ragged clothing and falling pieces of cloth- a look that the assassin would never be caught dead with. Besides, that little smile of hers challenged him to stay sharp on his toes with a verbal comeback but her jabs had become playful and less embarrassing than before. He didn't feel the need to defend himself against the strange time traveler anymore and Malik's words ran through his head. Was he truly becoming her friend?. . .Where was a hard drink when he needed one?

"Yet this head managed to solve a temple's brain puzzle" she chided mischievously as she clung for dear life onto the bedroll but he frowned deeply to steer her back to the main topic. She was a stubborn donkey when she didn't want to delve into a topic and a crafty falcon when she wanted to run circles around her enemies to confuse them (she accomplished that with her babblings alone). Her smile faltered as she avoided his gaze throughout the entire exchange and he noticed for the first time that her ears were red at the top. She sighed softly as her avoidance hit a dead end, hastily putting away the bedroll for later cleaning away from everyone's eyes, and admitted modestly, "I'm not hurt. My, uh, my monthly menses is here-"

At this, the assassin reared back as if he'd been bitten into by an invisible foe and she found his horrified expression amusing as his balance faltered for a split second. Well, even the mighty Altaïr was unsettled like any normal man about that specific topic. She chuckled softly as his face reminded her of home, the familiar flicker of human unease settling her nerves and chided gently, "Stop that, you look like my father when I told him for the very first time. Even time doesn't change that look."

"Well, do you need medicine to stop it? A dark hut for isolation? Angle your tent towards the moon? A cleansing ritual?" he asked awkwardly in hurried rambles to wrap up the topic before he became more involved than he needed to. This was not what he'd expected; he would've preferred an animal bite to this! Women were modest beings that kept those topics between themselves and he wasn't keen on discovering further facts on what went on within their bodies. Vivian could only stare at him in disbelief to the outrageous suggestions that made absolutely no sense to her modern mindset and he admitted glumly with great reluctance, "I've never been exposed to this in my life."

"You traveled with Maria for many months" she pointed out quickly because she highly doubted the ex-Templar discovered hormonal suppression in that era and she was too young to hit menopause. For all of his great skills, Altaïr lacked socializing with women on such topics because society placed a stigma on publicly disclosing anything private. Of course, the time traveler had to twist his life upside down in the most uncomfortable way that morning and resisted the urge to bolt.

"She was very quiet about those things, _all_ women are!" he snapped back with a tone that sounded almost hysterical to her ears and Vivian felt all of her embarrassment leaving her. The man was completely innocent in the inner workings of womankind and smiled widely with mirth, laughing into her hands but stopped when the motion hurt her belly. Nuts, now she wouldn't be able to joke around and laugh like the jolly little jester she was. Altaïr was not amused by her delight to his lack of knowledge, wanting to wash away that little grin and stated stiffly, "It's not _normal_ to me, Vivian."

* * *

_Thank you for the continuous support and please drop a review, I love reading them!_


	24. Altair & Vivian's Aunt Flo

**Altaïr and Vivian's Aunt Flo  
**

* * *

"I will head out in two days after the pyramid incident settles down since the Raj and Templar forces have been decimated" Amon promised as he stood on the riverbank in his gray thief garb, his rugged and sharp features hidden from anyone just as Altaïr's. In Vivian's opinion, hoods made almost any man twice as attractive in this time era and wondered if it worked the same for women to utilize it in her personas. The thief had come to say his farewells to the group as they packed their items into their trusty canoe to leave for Uganda. It would be a very long trip for the three and they had gathered all of the supplies that they could take to ensure their survival for a month in case game was bad.

Vivian had packed leftover food from the inn to take on their journey because they'd no idea where settlements would be, except for a few that Amon had kindly marked on a map for them. The morning was still early as the sky had barely turned its sky blue with thin feathery clouds that lingered from the night and the river was void of visitors, privy only to fishermen heading out for the day's catch. The empty area filled her heart with melancholy since she'd come to like Giza, its beautiful architecture, and wished they could've spent more time to bond further with Amon and his people. She didn't even get to walk over the sandy hill that would one day be uncovered to reveal the mysterious sphinx.

"If you plan to head to these settlements, I can forward your mail with the messengers and I'll be delivering those you gave me to your order" Amon suggested helpfully and Altaïr nodded since the bird carriers failed to reach him once they entered Cairo. The last letter he'd received had been an update on fortifying their order, making sure nobody turned traitorous, recruiting a few members, and the end of the Third Crusade (a huge relief since he didn't want his people targeted). Oh, and his falcon had almost bitten off one of Bashir's fingers but that was normal.

"There's nothing cooler than thief mail" Vivian sighed dreamily since rogues and wizards were always her favorite RPG classes to play since they could do things she'd never dreamed of. Plus, she could only imagine the coolest flexible maneuvers they'd perform to simply deliver a letter. Altaïr aimed a deadpan stare in her direction for her ridiculous comment because thieves were not 'cool' in his book and she shrugged meekly to justify, "They use catchy monikers: dove, sparrow, m'lady, lass, kitten-"

"Being named after animals is _alluring_? What is wrong with your generation?" he asked incredulously because this was news to him. . .or maybe Vivian's generation was a little touched in the head. Then again, he'd never actually had a sound romantic relationship in his life so he wasn't the number one mentor to dish out advice- not that he would, that was more of a female thing.

Vivian shrugged noncommittally since she only took herself into account (everybody was different, after all) and admitted easily, "Eh, to each her own, I guess. Your awesomeness is apparently enough to get you laid without romantic innuendo, it seems."

Since he lacked anything to stuff her mouth with, he whacked her on the butt with the paddle to get her moving into the boat. Like a feisty badger that refused to die, she hissed irately and settled into the floating boat to arrange their things for the ride south. He suddenly remembered the only thing he loved about riding down the Nile: his ability to whack her with the oar to silence her ramblings and reign supreme. Looking to the thief, who raised a brow in amusement to their antics, Altaïr added in, "If anything happens to arrive in a box, destroy it with fire. It will most likely be defunct gadgets that will cause severe bodily harm rather than help. I like to keep the casualties from my inventors to my allies at a minimum."

Malik shook Amon's hand for the help he'd provided them against the Templars and stated amicably, "Be safe on your trip north, may Allah watch over you. Your help will provide extra leverage against these men and I hope to meet you again soon without a fight being involved."

"Where's the fun in that?" the thief chuckled softly since fate worked in mysterious ways and waved a hand in farewell towards Vivian. The woman's peppy demeanor had helped broker peace since her leader's attitude was not initially peaceful but his hunch to believe them paid off wonderfully. The poor districts would no longer suffer under the Raj thieves' greediness and he smiled at the woman who rubbed her wet behind, "It's a shame you must leave, your skills would've been perfect in my team. You have potential, young one."

"Well, someone has to keep this one in line" she joked wittily with a cheeky smile and flicked a thumb towards Altaïr, yelping when he smacked her leg with the wet oar. Another dark blotch covered her robes to add further embarrassment but she turned the negative into a positive, irking the assassin when she shot back smugly, "My boiling skin _thanks_ you."

Amon glanced at the dai, a smirk visible underneath his gray hood since the two never ceased to engage each other in banter and commented, "You will have your hands full with these two."

"It's astounding how quickly I became a father of two" Malik agreed dryly with humor glinting in his eyes and while Vivian flashed him a cheshire smile full of pride for being deemed a 'child' of his, Altaïr bristled under the hood. What AC fan wouldn't want to be the unofficial child of an awesome dai that could parkour and climb with _one_ arm alone? She'd rather be in Malik's wise hands (student-wise, of course) rather than Altaïr's because the latter man would send her careening into the nearest mud pit.

"Time to leave, we all have places to be and I want to conquer this watery river of death quickly" Altaïr ordered tightly as he handed an oar to Vivian, shuffling his team inside the canoe hastily to resume their old mode of transportation again. He pushed the boat into the water, having no issue with the entire weight and ignored Malik's scolding about lacking a decent warning as he caught his balance. Vivian helped her friend settle into the canoe before he fell overboard in Altaïr's haste and yelped indignantly when the assassin almost stepped over her leg when he jumped inside, biting her tongue over a few choice words. Would a simple 'pardon' be too much? She and Malik glared daggers into his back as they became baggage in his wake and Altaïr called over his left shoulder, "Good luck, Amon. May safety follow your path."

The thief stepped forward before Altaïr rowed off with the power of a steam boat, his leather boots splashing in the shallow water, and handed a small bag to Vivian with a friendly smile, "You've been very kind despite the general outlook on my profession and wanted to thank you for giving us food and loot that will keep us well fed for a few weeks. These are basboosa, sweet lemon bread popular in Egypt, and I added a few bags of beans and lentils to help you on your journey."

Vivian took it with a grateful smile, joyed that kindness did have its own rewards in this time and wagged her brows knowingly at Altaïr to point out that Egyptian hospitality was nice. She felt a metal pot holding the items inside and her perplexed look led Amon to inform with a sneaky smile that betrayed his nonchalant voice, "I took the liberty of _borrowing_ a pot from a vendor in an upscale shop since yours is horribly tarnished."

Altaïr raised his left eyebrow with silent demand to know how the man knew about the old pot he'd given Vivian to use since leaving Masyaf. Being an assassin, he'd grown up to learn to hunt his own food and cook it over a glowing fire pit as the prey hung by a stick to roast to perfection. He'd given the pot to the woman as a freebie to stop her incessant nagging about decent food but constant use turned the pot scuffed, dull, and dented (he'd chucked it in a fit of rage during their early days). While Vivian curiously opened the bag to find their new gift, Altaïr asked skeptically, "How did you know?"

"I'm a thief, I know these things" he replied simply with a mischievous smile that reminded Altaïr to check his bags and the man laughed with amusement to his guarded expression. Vivian, however, was ecstatic to have new cookware since they used their heavy pot on a daily basis for just about anything. The only time they used their other pans was when they slept at an inn and used the kitchen to make their own meals.

"Be careful, I plan on learning skills the next time we meet" Vivian piped up optimistically as she grabbed the paddle to row the boat into the water and resume their super-fantastic POE mission. She didn't know if she'd be able to keep her promise with the news that Madagascar would allow her return home but kept the door open because the unexpected could happen. They were still a long way from that island in the Indian Ocean so she'd be spending the next year or so alongside the assassin duo . . . she could only wonder whether she or Altaïr would be driven to madness first.

They left the thief on the riverbank, Vivian glancing back to give him one last farewell wave of the hand and thanking him for the helpful gift. She had quite the interesting adventure in the ancient city of the pharaohs and had made a new friend along the way, something she hadn't counted on. Forming new bonds made her uneasy for the first time in her life since her presence in their realm would end one day and everything would have to be left behind. She didn't know how she'd cope when her two companions would no longer exist in her time or dimension. They had become a part of daily life for the past month and if Madagascar was her lottery ticket home, she'd better start preparing for her goodbyes once they landed.

"Vivian, would you kindly row the boat instead of daydreaming?" Altaïr's waspish voice burst into her head and she sighed exasperatedly to obey, knowing he was in cranky mode once more. The man had a morning crankiness that carried the fury of a thousand bears and wolverines put together. If the Nile wasn't dangerous and she knew whether he could swim, she would've chucked him out for a splash to cool his hot head. Instead, she had returned to resume her role of paddler pusher #2 on the ride to Lake Victoria.

She decided to regale him with sweet justice for his grumpy Gus demeanor and smiled sweetly, "Sing 'row your boat', you say? Why, of course, kind sir! _Row, row, row your boat_-"

Altaïr objected loudly over the river current but could do nothing since Malik sat in the center, ignoring them completely by reading a book, and Vivian sang the old melody.

* * *

_Back at Masyaf, Syria. . .  
_

Maria had never felt more uncomfortable than she did the following morning of her arrival, not even the end of her first marriage brought this much disconcerting unease. All eyes had been on her since she first entered the large fortress and she kept her gaze downcast to prove that she meant no harm, staying out of the assassins' way to maintain her own safety. After endless traveling and avoiding Templars with a death warrant on her head throughout three countries, she'd been thankful for a safe roof over her head the previous night. Of course, she kept a dagger hidden underneath her pillow in case anyone tried to secretly get rid of her by disobeying Ilias.

Masyaf wasn't her first choice for protection but her tryst with Altaïr had left behind a nonreturnable gift that she wasn't keen on upon discovering it. Maria had never seen herself as a maternal person, her own childhood of growing up proper and her ultimate disobedience being a prime example as to why she shouldn't be. Her profession had grown dangerous after crossing the Templars and realizing she was carrying an assassin's child rose that bounty on her life if anybody spotted her. She'd made it quite clear to Altaïr that their close partnership was only for stress relief and the comfort it brought from physical companionship but she wouldn't delve deeper to an emotional level. These were dangerous times and she wanted to redefine her role in the world while simultaneously causing a dent in the Templar order, there was no time for romance when an hour could mean life or death for you. The assassins would never trust her and adventuring solo or with him tow would help keep her hidden from her enemies.

When she'd made the journey to Masyaf, she'd expected Altaïr to be there since everything had been assassinate this and 'the creed' that- it was a little unnerving how deeply intertwined his life was to the cause. Again, he'd admitted that it was all he'd known since birth whereas she'd joined the Templars as an adult and it allowed her to break free of their chains. For the past five years, she'd been trying to find who she was since leaving her family and how she fitted in the turbulent world around her but settling down to rear a child was not her first choice. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for her.

Abbas and a few other assassins had let slide a few choice words for her as she'd wandered the grounds after breakfast to read. What else could she do now that she was pregnant, weaponless, and bound to the fortress? The entire meal had been uncomfortable as everyone's eyes had darted to her at least once and Ilias had kindly introduced her to the entire order to quell the rumors (Maria was sure it started another load). The man substituting as leader was not as cold as she'd originally assumed with his strong features and calm expression, deciding to put her trust in him. All she needed was a sanctuary to birth her child and after that . . . well, she would plan for that when the time came. If Altaïr happened to return by that time, she would inform him but she wanted to keep their child safe from harm and away from what their parents did for a living.

"Greetings to you, Maria" a cheerful voice erupted from up ahead and her gaze left the book in her hands to find a young man in his early 20's smiling at her, a brown falcon perched on his left shoulder where a leather spauldron was tied on for protection. She'd caught sight of the assassin around Masyaf, his demeanor utterly polite as he sat by himself during mealtime with books and scrolls in hand. Not many had approached him but she'd heard a few jokes in his direction as he preferred staying inside Masyaf rather than heading out on assignments.

The assassin greeted her with a small nod, placing a hand over his chest in the classical fashion and maintained eye contact as he stated, "A piece of advice, maintaining eye contact with us shows respect while none is seen as very rude. I am Bashir."

It seemed she would have to learn a few customs here.

"Hello" she stated awkwardly since she'd never expected anyone to really talk to her, slowly closing her book to assess the new situation. With her reputation spreading through the fortress like a wildfire, she was certain everyone would be staying leagues away from her. She'd never really been a chatty type since women of her land were worried more about suitors for marriage and beauty than exploring the world and finding their passion in life. Men in the Templar order were worse as they stuck to orders only and with women being seen rather than heard, she was always on her own. The gazes of both the assassin and falcon caused her to hesitate with uncertainty but spoke honestly, "I must admit that I didn't expect anyone to approach me and my conversation skills aren't the best, given my previous occupation."

"It's no problem, Ilias has promised your safety and the brotherhood will obey Altaïr's wishes" Bashir replied earnestly with a friendly smile and Rafiki's wings fluttered in honor to his master. Despite most members of the order saw his plans and inventions as useless, Altaïr listened to his reasoning to see which items were worth making a prototype for.

"Where is Altaïr? I didn't have time to ask Ilias yesterday, the walk to Masyaf was murder and I'm ashamed to say I fell asleep instantly" she spoke softly since the lack of decent sleep while moving from place to place had accumulated until she slept the entire day and a half to unload the entire burden. Her first meeting with Ilias had consisted of her debriefing a few important facts on Templar movements across the Mediterranean as she stuck close to the coast in case she needed to flee by either land or water. After making true on her word, she'd been shown her new quarters for the rest of her stay and had secured it against trespassers so she could sleep easy. She'd originally expected a tiny broom closet due to her old affiliations but received a decent room where she could pace around and the furnishings were better than what she'd used in the past year (which was none).

He gazed at the clear azure sky to outline a few birds riding the thermals and answered simply, "He's in the African continent on a mission with another of our brothers and a foreigner for two years, at the least. I can only assume he's passed into Egypt by now since his letters stopped arriving and he wrote as such in the last."

"I hope for his safety then" she stated with a light furrow of her brows because two year would be quite a time and her child would be due in six months or so. By that time, she hoped to have her next plans formulated since motherhood unnerved her but would take full responsibility. As for Altaïr, she'd never exactly had a relationship with the man to begin with but he'd fathered her child . . . what had she stepped into? Being an unwed mother would not bode well for her in this region- or any, for that matter- and hoped Altaïr would have better ideas on how to handle the situation.

"Did Ilias give you a tour of the grounds?" he asked kindly as he motioned to the large fortress that encased them on top of the mountain. She shook her head since she'd only met with Ilias before finding her room, too exhausted to wander the grounds, and simply asked where the bathroom and kitchen were located. Bashir, always eager to do his grand master's bidding (all within Masyaf), ushered her forward with a friendly wave of the hand and smiled proudly towards the ancient citadel, "Come, I will acquaint you to your new home."

Maria wasn't entirely sure on that part until she could ensure a safer home for her child but right now, it was all she had.

"Given your condition, I imagine you need new fabric for sewing?" Bashir spoke up casually as she stood up with a small frown at her feet, which would be swelling in a few hours, and gave him another nod. She actually hadn't had much time to find anything decent, patching up similar color robes to stretch out the waistline to support her changing body. Being on the run took away certain luxuries but if she could find a good roll of stretchable fabric, she'd be glad for it. The young inventor headed towards the main gates with his falcon partner on the shoulder, rambling on cheerfully, "We will visit the village below, Ilias has a deal with the tailor for all of our fabrics and I'm sure he'll allow the purchase. They have very nice options in my opinion but for some reason, Altaïr always heads to Damascus for his own tailoring. He always seems to dress a little better than us and with his silver tongue, I'm certain he can bargain."

Maria followed him quietly, her face shifting from her calm mask to amusement because Bashir was an animated talker as he headed for the gardens of the fortress. She was new to this place but hopefully, she would find her safe foothold there.

That is, if she didn't break an ankle descending the hundreds of steps down towards the village first.

* * *

_In the outskirts of current day Minya, Egypt. . ._

Vivian counted herself lucky that she was currently on water travel, thanking her lucky stars a million times that her current predicament didn't begin back in Giza. In fact, lucky was the least she could call it because it was a blessing! It all started on one fine morning when the chirpy tweeting of birds woke her up in horrible pain and she realized, with great embarrassing horror, that her monthly visitor had reared its ugly head. Why, oh, _why_ was she stranded in time with that physiological time bomb? It was times like this that she yearned to be a man so she could avoid that iffy subject altogether since she traveled with men who knew nothing about it!

The fact that her sleeping gown and bedroll became stained during the night didn't help matters in the slightest when she scrambled to her pack to fish out the items she'd prepared ahead of time. When a modern day girl was lost in time, she would not procrastinate on important things like _this_. . .especially when in the company of a suspicious assassin that had the efficiency of the Terminator. There was a reason she scampered over to hygienic stands during travel and spent her meager coin on whatever she could stock up on to avoid any embarrassing incidents.

With her heart jumping in her throat, she'd practically flown to the river with her items to wash her gown squeaky clean and tidied her poor appearance before someone caught her. Otherwise, she'd have a very hard time explaining that she hadn't been stabbed or killed someone while taking a stroll to the riverbank. After that short crisis was averted, she returned back to camp with a mixture of horrible symptoms to find the bloodhound known as Altaïr making rounds around camp. Why had he picked _this_ precise time frame to make his perimeter scans? Hollywood couldn't make films this suspenseful- okay, well, maybe Jaws. . .but this came rather close!

Quickly, she fought down the sharp pain that jolted to her abdomen as she met him before he could wander into her tent and piped up cheerfully, "Good morning, fellow adventurer-"

"Where have you been?" he demanded suspiciously as he spotted the bundle of ruffled clothes in her arms and she smiled innocently, quickly mumbling out she'd showered. This, of course, set off alarms in his mind because her hair was dry as hay and she wasn't shivering in the slightest. She headed into her tent hastily, dumping her items to the side carelessly as she dove for her bedroll to hide it but Altaïr's perfect vision caught sight of the crimson spot.

Why was _that_ there?!

Before she could fold the roll in half to hide it, he was pulling on her left leg to reveal what she'd hidden from him but she wasn't budging. She defied his pulling with the ferociousness of a badger because she wasn't ready to face further mortification under his scrutiny. He grit his teeth to her audacity as he tugged the feisty woman with all of his might to pull her away and he snapped sharply, "What happened? Who or what harmed you? Where are they? Answer or-"

"Let go, you Balrog of Morgoth!" she hissed defiantly to his irate demands and wiggled both legs to break free, remembering their antagonistic night at the inn. The assassin shook her one more time before dropping her onto her bed and she turned the roll over to its squeaky clean side. Could this become any more mortifying? Scratch that, she didn't want to jinx it and have Malik burst in with the same flurry of questions. Curiosity glimmered in her eyes since she could've pinned the blame on killing an intruding animal (not that he'd believe her) and she asked, "Wait, why'd you think I was hurt?"

"I heard shuffling and running towards the bank, I was sewing a pair of trousers when I heard it" he explained matter-of-factly between thinned lips that clearly showed he wanted answers and wasn't handing out his own. After all, he stumbled onto this unexpected scene and required answers as the troop leader rather than a runaround. He waved an indignant finger to point at the offending bedroll that had branded a permanent picture into his brain and snapped firmly, "Not to mention, that puddle right there that's very hard to ignore!"

Vivian smiled impishly at the image of him sewing because she'd never seen him do such a thing since they started traveling, only cleaning and hunting. He didn't like that cunning little smile on her face since she was crafty at avoiding topics and she teased with a sweet voice, "Isn't that cute? I didn't think you could sew."

"Woman, there's a lot of things you don't know that could fill a library" he retorted back because most traveling men knew a thing or two about sewing clothing, especially when being a bachelor. Otherwise, they'd stumble into towns with ragged clothing and falling pieces of cloth- a look that the assassin would never be caught dead with. Besides, that little smile of hers challenged him to stay sharp on his toes with a verbal comeback but her jabs had become playful and less embarrassing than before. He didn't feel the need to defend himself against the strange time traveler anymore and Malik's words ran through his head. Was he truly becoming her friend?. . .Where was a hard drink when he needed one?

"Yet this head managed to solve a temple's brain puzzle" she chided mischievously as she clung for dear life onto the bedroll but he frowned deeply to steer her back to the main topic. She was a stubborn donkey when she didn't want to delve into an issue and a crafty falcon when she wanted to run circles around her enemies to confuse them (she accomplished that with her babblings alone). Her smile faltered as she avoided his gaze throughout the entire exchange and he noticed for the first time that her ears were red at the top. She sighed softly as her avoidance hit a dead end, hastily putting away the bedroll for later cleaning away from everyone's eyes, and admitted modestly, "I'm not hurt. My, uh, my monthly menses is here-"

At this, the assassin reared back as if he'd been bitten into by an invisible foe and she found his horrified expression amusing as his balance faltered for a split second. Well, even the mighty Altaïr was unsettled like any normal man about that specific topic. She chuckled softly as his face reminded her of home, the familiar flicker of human unease settling her nerves and chided gently, "Stop that, you look like my father when I told him for the very first time. Even time doesn't change that look."

"Well, do you need medicine to stop it? A dark hut for isolation? Angle your tent towards the moon? A cleansing ritual?" he asked awkwardly in hurried rambles to wrap up the topic before he became more involved than he needed to. This was not what he'd expected; he would've preferred an animal bite to this! Women were modest beings that kept those topics between themselves and he wasn't keen on discovering further facts on what went on within their bodies. Vivian could only stare at him in disbelief to the outrageous suggestions that made absolutely no sense to her modern mindset and he admitted glumly with great reluctance, "I've never been exposed to this in my life."

"You traveled with Maria for many months" she pointed out quickly because she highly doubted the ex-Templar discovered hormonal suppression in that era and she was too young to hit menopause. For all of his great skills, Altaïr lacked socializing with women on such topics because society placed a stigma on publicly disclosing anything private. Of course, the time traveler had to twist his life upside down in the most uncomfortable way that morning and he resisted the urge to bolt.

"She was very quiet about those things, all women are!" he snapped back with a tone that sounded almost hysterical to her ears and Vivian felt all of her initial embarrassment leaving her. The man was completely innocent in the inner workings of womankind and smiled widely with mirth, laughing into her hands but stopped when the motion hurt her belly. Nuts, now she wouldn't be able to joke around and laugh like the jolly little jester she was. Altaïr was not amused by her delight to his lack of knowledge, wanting to wash away that little grin and stated stiffly, "It's not _normal_ to me, Vivian."

"I know, it's a different age but I'm glad we're over water" she soothed gently since her bodily functions should be the last thing on Earth the assassin should worry about. This was not part of the adventure package she'd signed onto when she landed on that unknown doorstep a month ago in Jerusalem but thanked lady luck that he wasn't prying her for further information (he wouldn't dare). It was a good thing that his future didn't involve daughters or he'd have a heart attack when his first announced it.

Altaïr decided to guess on this one because he had nothing else to lose but his dignity and supplied, "Water ends it?"

"No, I have seven days to deal with this" she shot back with another bout of laughter to his first assumption that she could turn it off and on like a sink faucet. If womankind could do so, they'd choose to stretch it all throughout the year and pause for a few months. She'd never have expected to have a chat like this with him of all people- he was the epitome of heroic badassery- and couldn't help but laugh at the humorous situation they'd fallen into.

"How do you not die from the continuous . . . you know?!" he exclaimed with mortified shock to that new knowledge and she buried her head in her hands, struggling not to laugh at his bewildered expression. Never in her life did she imagine herself having this conversation with him and his face. . .he was caught between horror and dismay. Well, at least she'd managed to pry a look besides his normal 'brooding' and 'cranky'. Altaïr shook his head with a flabbergasted sigh because a week was quite long for a woman of Vivian's petite frame to endure such a thing. The human body could be quite strange and baffling sometimes.

"Keep it down in there!" Malik hollered over from his spot in camp as Altaïr's shrill voice had carried over and woken him up from a perfect dream where he'd been painting over a cliff in Greece. Why was it that he was disrupted from the most calming of dreams by Altaïr only? He needed to make linen strips to stuff into his ears to block out his indignant exclamations next time. Unlike his distressed friend, he knew about the issues currently tormenting poor Vivian and smirked in his comfy bed at the hilarity Altaïr was enduring.

Altaïr appeared as if he'd swallowed a whole sour lemon, the scar on his lips becoming more visible as his lips curled in distaste. Vivian rolled her eyes to the drama queen because he wasn't the one bearing this burden (for seven days every month) and spoke earnestly, "I'll live so relax. The only thing is that my menses-"

"Don't _say_ it" he cringed visibly as his shoulders stiffened and she chucked a pair of black trousers in his direction. He dodged them easily with a frown in case they were unsanitary and sidestepped away from them, drawing narrowed eyes from Vivian. What, were periods contagious now?

"Are quite painful to the point it's a medical condition so I wanted to ask if we could find camp earlier than usual?" she requested meekly since her habits would have to change according to that time frame. She could no longer chug down prescribed painkillers to sleep it all off or use her handy heat pack since that technology was as undiscovered as a new species in that land. Her fingers trailed through her hair to brush the unkempt tresses and appear presentable in the early morning, glumly sighing under her breath, "The lack of modern medicine will make this unbearable for the first two days and I'll be dizzy, nauseous, vomiting, aching, and cranky with headaches. If I seem angrier and cruel, blame whoever or whatever created womankind because I don't truly mean it."

"You're throwing a lot at me, Vivian" he grumbled quietly to what she'd unloaded on him, wishing he'd had breakfast before facing this new development, and she smiled sweetly to sway his opinion. Although, with her ruffled appearance, it wasn't her best attempt. He threw his hands up because he knew there was no way he'd win this one and she'd earned a boon after her help at the pyramid, sighing dramatically, "By the stars, you look like a puppy and I can't crush puppies- no matter how ugly."

Ignoring her protesting 'hey' to the comparison, he continued with his new orders but his voice faltered uneasily on the touchy subject, "Don't strain yourself and do whatever you need to. . .just keep it quiet and hidden. I don't need to know what goes on. . .down there."

She shooed him out of her tent, grateful for the agreement, and smirked impishly, "You're going to make a fantastic husband someday with that bedside manner."

"You'll find _I'm_ the most liberal man in this era" he defended primly since matters like those were spoken mainly by women, if at all, while men ignored it. They were private issues that only concerned the individual but he could understand Vivian's views because sometimes, you had questions and others could have the answers. Unfortunately, she'd landed in the wrong era and he could only offer her privacy (and condolences) to make her more comfortable.

She shook her head with amusement to his insistence and couldn't help but chide him one last time, "Nah, I think Malik holds that title- he lets me roam."

"Ha!" the dai's voice echoed as he heard everything, leading Altaïr to scowl for being left as second. Maybe it was a good thing that game business in Vivian's time focused solely on his line, Malik would've threatened to nudge him out as favorite.

* * *

By the evening, Vivian cursed whatever forces of science had brought her there and had snapped out a few choice words for those ancient beings that refused to give her answers. Why couldn't medicine be more advanced in the 12th century? Malik and Altaïr ignored the outbursts that could be heard throughout camp, giving her that outlet to pent out frustrations.

"I'm burning in a cold desert" she grumbled under her breath but the temperature was better compared to earlier in the day during rowing when she'd been scorching. She'd tried to help but Altaïr had quickly reprimanded that he didn't need her bleeding to death, embarrassing the poor woman in her corner. Her upbeat humorous nature took a backseat as nausea and discomfort took the forefront, removing the usual jovial mood during travel. Malik found it odd while Altaïr found it wonderful, leading the dai to fill in her spot by talking aloud about their recent Egyptian adventures. Vivian could only find the most holistic and quietest ways to take care of herself without raising concern, missing her sisters for company more than ever since two male assassins didn't help her poor case. She growled under her breath as she lay on her clean bedroll inside her private tent, grumpy about the whole situation as she yearned longingly, "All I ask is for extra strength Advil. . .or a decent sleeping pill."

Her right palm slapped the ground as it blindly searched for the bowl of tea she made from anise and chamomile plants she'd bought back in the markets. It had helped to dull the pain but heating a rag in boiling water continuously brought her nothing, except for wet skin and damp clothing. She'd never felt so fussy in her life and hated the feeling of being anything but calm and cheerful- it was her core personality! Her walk of shame had been walking to camp like the unlucky hunchback of Notre dame, leading Altaïr to haul her multiple packs in _one_ hand alone, and come back for her when he realized she'd barely walked halfway. He'd teased her relentlessly as she'd clung onto his back like a baby koala but remained eternally thankful for the generous piggyback ride.

"Back To The Future made this look so easy" she groaned miserably as she stared at the brown ceiling of her tent, the wax candle sitting in its copper holder and providing light. How did women with dysmenorrhea bear it in the 1190s? If she wasn't in so much pain, she'd roll around to be rid of the heat burning her up from the inside and fussed against her makeshift pillow with an unfeminine grunt, "There's no way you can live here with menstrual comfort, ridiculously pretty Mary Sue's can kiss my ass back to the Stone Age because they'd mourn horribly if they existed here like me."

"I think you've gone insane" a low deep voice spoke from the entrance of her tent and she quickly pulled her sleeping tunic down to cover her stomach to maintain a decent appearance. Just because she felt like a creature ready to be put out of its misery didn't mean she had to ignore manners and norms. She'd pulled the sleeves of the tunic to her shoulders and raised the leg of her pants to the knees as her skin felt flush despite the cool temperature but could do nothing about them as he entered the tent. He paused for a moment to make sure it was safe to venture into the dragon's lair and his eyes lingered on her legs as she lay curled in a fetal position on her bedroll. There was a large bowl filled with tea and another with boiling water for a compress (which he could see had reddened her face with its temperature) while her blankets lay crumpled at the entrance of the tent, stepping over them to prevent tripping. Vivian blew a raspberry to his silent staring because today was not a day for judgment as femininity was flushed down a figurative toilet.

"Yes, my legs are hairy and blinding you with their nakedness but they're simply _legs_!" she declared languidly with a small sigh as her back ached, knowing there was absolutely no allure in her current form to draw any sane man. The legs just added that cherry on top. It wasn't her fault she'd become lazy in shaving her legs with a knife when nobody really cared about limbs that never saw the light of day. There was no level for the embarrassment of being seen by the assassin of _all_ assassins but at this hour of the night- what time was it anyway?- she didn't care at all. Her left hand motioned to his covered legs underneath the white robes and she pouted woefully to sigh with a dreamy tone, "I bet your legs are prettier, perfectly toned and assassiny with manly hair that hopefully surpasses mine."

He smirked to her descriptive words since compliments about one's physical appearance by the opposite gender automatically warranted interest in courting in his culture but heavily doubted Vivian knew that. Also, her mind wasn't exactly in its normal eccentric range since the morning and he pointed out simply with a snort, "That's not even word."

"Tell that to whoever decided to drop me here where modern medicine is lacking, I'd kick you in the balls just for one 600mg ibuprofen pill" she declared woefully with a whimper that matched a newborn puppy and gulped her batch of tea, timing each cup carefully to make sure no overdoses occurred. He glared for the rude comment because every man was particularly protective of that area, even in verbal form, and watched her face shift from frumpiness to regret. Vivian didn't mean for her joke to come off anywhere near insulting and groaned pitifully to apologize, "Sorry, internal rage makes you say crazy things- I'd be too fearful to even say that on a normal day. If I start bawling or spilling secrets, please run and _never_ mention it for the rest of our lives."

On that note, they were both in agreement and the assassin stated with an awkward but honest voice, "For the first time, I pity you and your female physiology. Never have I been so grateful to be born a man."

She aimed a deadpan stare that he just knew was stabbing him behind those narrowed eyes and Vivian grumbled miserably against her makeshift pillow, "If those words came from any other person, they'd have a fork in their eye."

Altaïr decided that he wanted to stay on her hormone induced happy side for the week and lifted a wooden plate that he carried in his hands to explain his visit, "Regardless of that, I brought you supper."

"That's more of Malik's persona than yours but thanks" she said earnestly with a tired smile and thanked him when he helped her sit up with a steady hand, placing the warm plate in her lap. Lying on the floor while staring at the ceiling hadn't really given her a good look of the assassin which is why she'd started commenting on his legs- he really did have very nice leather boots. She'd almost forgotten she hadn't eaten anything since morning and couldn't hold it off any longer at the risk of hypoglycemia and lack of energy. Roasted pheasant (thank goodness Malik managed to hoard the spices), a pile of lentils, and a piece of hard cheese were on the plate, leading her rub her hands gratefully that he'd stopped by. The food smelled and looked delicious but her current condition gave her no appetite but she ate nonetheless, taking slow calculated bites to balance out her shabby appearance.

"After seeing you barf over the river more than me, I figured you needed this" he stated sympathetically as she'd broken his daily record and had torn the paddles from her grip before she worsened. He stared in disbelief when she devoured the meal with none of the polite table manner she held when they all ate together, casting aside propriety as Vivian realized she was _starving_! As much as she wanted to impress the man like a dainty woman of the Middle Ages, she reasoned that she'd lost major points that morning upon admitting everything and could bear to hit rock bottom. Being a man that wasn't communicative in facial expression or thoughts, he couldn't help but admit listlessly, "The limits of the female body astound me."

"Buddy, I'm as surprised as you" she agreed wholeheartedly because the body of women dealt with physiological events that left her baffled. She'd cried when her mother first explained the entire process of childbirth after health classes yielded no help and seeing it on the Discovery channel years later. . .she'd curled into a ball. Biting into the crumbly hard cheese, she aimed the bitten portion in his direction as she declared with newfound pride, "I have a whole new outlook for the women of this time, I could even write a paper about interpersonal communication based on culture alone! Not only are we oppressed, discriminated, and barred from a good education with humane civil rights but we lack decent medicine to bear these toils of life," he thinned his lips when she scratched a spot on her back like a drunk as she continued her praises, "I am completely humbled and will nag my gender when they declare that they have it bad in my part of the country. You can walk to a store within an hour and buy tampons and painkillers without trouble or shame, not to mention the wonders of prescription drugs. I have to make everything my _bare_ hands, Altaïr-"

"You're rambling into madness" he warned her with a snort before she delved further into the female body and she stopped immediately, breathing deeply to calm herself and wolfed down the last of her lentils.

"Can I get a tummy rub then?" she attempted to joke to feel like her old self again and finished eating her cheese to complete the meal. He shook his head with a negative because he'd never do such a thing under any circumstance and a flicker of a smile lit her face. Placing the plate aside, she lay down on her side again to soothe her aching muscles (happy for a full stomach in accompaniment) and sighed with relief to her comfy bedding, "I bet Wookies would love those, even Yoda. Best they are, tummy rubs."

Altaïr realized he'd be seeing this part of Vivian every month for a _year_ and almost felt faint at the dreadful thought of replaying the same scenarios. She was a regular spitfire when he riled her under normal circumstances and wondered what beast lurked under that natural bloodletting of hers. Vivian noticed his piercing stare from her spot, his expression similar to a leopard that was deciding whether a nearby lioness would attack it, and smiled faintly, "I'm not going to turn into a bloodthirsty ghoul and disembowel you."

"That was not the thought in mind but thank you for adding that one" he replied dryly as the old Vivian came back fighting through the shroud of exhaustion and grabbed the plate to leave her in peace. If he didn't feel well, the last thing he wanted was company watching him in his lowest point of life and informed her quietly, "I will come to check on you later."

"Wait, I think the floor just shifted with the wall- be careful out yonder, pal, there be pirates!" she rambled madly with a cautious voice that almost made him believe she was entirely lucid but touched in the head. Whatever went on in the bodies of women, he didn't want to know after this. He simply patted her on the head like a master would his old hound that was ready for peaceful death and she mumbled under her breath as she closed her eyes briefly, "Hmm, yes, I'll take that coffee cake. . .Altaïr loves coffee cake. . ."

Her hand flew up to investigate the new sensation on her head and smiled dopily at finding his, the back of her logical hormone-lacking mind awed to touching the mighty hand of Altaïr. As for her current self, she gurgled tiredly as the imbalance only served to skewer her image and snuggled into the bedroll as he coaxed gently to lull her to sleep, "Go to sleep, Vivian. We will take over your shift tonight."

"Thanks, Garrus. . .you're my best friend" she mumbled softly with a content whimper and he bit his lower lip, resisting the urge to correct and snap her out of the strange mental state. Instead, he decided to leave her be (but he _would_ check on her to prevent any mishaps) and stood up to exit the tent to return to sharpening his sword since the nighttime offered the most peace. She watched his tall shadow flicker against the tent, hearing the flaps of the entrance shift as his footsteps were the only sound of his exit. Hmm, he opened them quite a lot, actually. . .a little _too_ much for her current liking. Quickly, she called indignantly for being left at the mercy of mosquitoes and demanded restitution, "And close the flaps right, I'm not about to die from numerous mosquito bites!"

It was going to be an arduously _lo-o-o-ng_ week with the injured badger.

* * *

**A/N**: As if a female AC fan wouldn't have it bad enough in the Middle Ages, I decided to burden poor Vivian with that known condition to add that realism into the story. She's a brave soul while Altaïr is still out deciding whether she's a dragon in disguise and if she'll claws his eyes out. She'll be back to normal, somewhat, in the next chapter as she connects with Altaïr and ventures into the next village. I decided to break the chapter in half so you could get a chapter every two weeks because there are stories I become brain starved for and want to give you guys that nice slice of virtual cake.

Thanks for the continued support as I dish out these chapters of the ridiculously peppy Vivian, stoically grumpy Altaïr, and dashingly friendly Malik.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: Glad your computer's back to normal, I hate reading from my phone because everything looks tiny. Lol. Malik is definitely the peacemaker, there's a scene much later in the chapters where Altaïr accidentally kills an animal that Vivian had unofficially dubbed as her pet 'Rigby' and let's say he wasn't gentle handling the situation. Altaïr is the logical brain of the group while Vivian serves the moral good so she freaks when he jokes about having a funeral and putting down animals himself when Malik diffuses everything by scolding him.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Originally, I was going to have him shove her off the bed but being punched in the eye is more hilarious. Later on, I saw this Parks and Recreation episode where one of the characters is 'sleep fighting' and almost punches his coworker, leading to him stating that it's only a bad condition when he's losing. I thought it was hilarious and could see Altaïr doing something like that later on. I researched old beliefs about menstruation and those were the top ones, which would make any woman cringe.

_KrnYong_: As a teen, I had to share beds with my favorite cousin during the holiday season but even then, I took most of the space while she took the blankets. We'll always hear Vivian spouting off names from fandoms but I find it humorous that although Altaïr is her favorite (along with Garrus Vakarian), she'll never say his name in her sleep- much to his annoyance as time passes. There's no modern day topic I'll shy away from to give that realistic feel as poor Vivian endures it all- a sore butt from horse riding, annoying mosquito bites, the dreadful period, stinky outhouses, a common cold, you name it.

_xVentressx_: Nobody wants to share womanly business with Altaïr. lol

_ihas no clue_: It's bad enough to have that physiological time bomb and unless you bear no pain during those times, I think most female fans dropped into the Middle Ages would groan miserably to the lack of decent painkillers (I know I would). Just like you said, it's a human thing and Vivian's the most average being I can think of that wouldn't defy biology.

* * *

**Next Time**:

Night had fallen over their campsite and brought a refreshing cool breeze that relieved the weary travelers as they'd eaten their dinner. Vivian was glad for the lack of firearms in their era because preparing a catch riddled with bullet fragments would've made it difficult, glad that she only had to fish out an arrowhead. Altaïr had insisted he prepare the bird but sick or not, Vivian would be horribly bedridden on her last breath before she let the man near the spices. Even Malik had wrestled a catch from him more than once because losing all of their expensive salt at his hands wasn't worth it but poor Altaïr was simply too stubborn to fix his cooking skills. To him, salt was the only ingredient needed to give flavor to food but the assassin poured salt onto food rather than added pinched dashes so everybody suffered when he put on a chef's hat.

Malik had retired for the night to read one of his books before heading to sleep, the light from his candle lantern glowing against the walls of the tent. Altaïr had chosen to write alongside the campfire in his travel journal, deciding to take a break from his POE ponderings while Vivian practiced her developing Arabic script on a piece of parchment. It definitely wasn't as easy as English but the calligraphy was quite elegant and although the mechanism that allowed her to understand their language was as unknown as her arrival, she wanted to learn their language in case it failed one day. Listening to Altaïr rant in Arabic would be quite the sight but she'd rather understand his words. While she'd scribbled away, he'd taken notice of the sloppy penmanship since Malik's coupons had given him quite the comparison in their writing skills and he'd ripped the paper out of her hands to teach her.

Normally, it was Malik's job to take care of her language skills- and just about everything else- but Altaïr couldn't bear to see his language tarnished by those slender hands. Vivian bore her first lesson with the assassin as he accented just about everything as important, her head nodding away mechanically to ensure she was listening but when he began to recite the history of the language . . . she zoned out. She loved history and craved knowledge but when Malik spoke, he garnered attention as he spoke with lively enthusiasm whereas Altaïr sucked the light out of the sun when he preached with a tone of superiority that bored her. She rotated the round pendant of her mother's necklace between her forefingers, wondering how it was the only object in her possession that traveled with her. How she came to find herself in assassin garb was beyond her, it was mind boggling.

"Are you listening?" he called for attention since he'd gotten to the point where mankind learned to write but caught the glazed faraway look in her eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than ignorance, it was feigned interest that wasted his time.

"Bite the brush and drink the ink, got it" she grinned cheekily to poke the stern eagle but snapped out of her realm of questions to pay full attention, her glazed look fading to make way for a perky expression. His brows were knitted together in displeasure and his Botox worthy lips were set in a frown, clearly displaying she'd upset his highness once more. Hmm, what was her record so far? Seven scowls in one day? She waved her hands dismissively to show she was committed to learning, huddling against the log behind her, and stated assuredly, "Of course, I'm listening but I'm more of a hands-on learner- why do you think I chose history? Can we skip the history for tonight and start practicing? I can learn it from Malik during our canoe ride to pass the time."

He denied handing over his writing quill, twirling it between his dexterous fingers, and chided smugly, "Impatient, are we?"

"I think we know who the impatient one is here" she quipped back with a small smirk since his patience extinguished rapidly when she was involved and pulled out her piece of charcoal to begin writing. Vivian preferred a stable non-liquid writing tool that wouldn't leave her fingers smeared or held the potential of ruining her work. With an impish maniacal laugh, she began writing on her clean piece of paper but that was a huge no-no for Professor Altaïr. He snatched it out of her grip with his flawless agility (not to mention strength), eliciting an adamant protest since it was her last piece and she wasn't keen on relinquishing it. She hadn't expected to wrestle with the equivalence of Professor Snape in the Middle Ages and tugged for her precious charcoal, hissing protectively, "Give that back, you!"

"Charcoal is not for writing, you need decent ink" he instructed shrewdly on her choice and pocketed the charcoal in one of his belt's pouches until the lesson finished. Vivian narrowed her eyes for having her tool swiped without her consent but her nonverbal attempt to intimidate him failed since he sat above her on the log and her huddled form did more harm than good to her expression. He opened a wooden bottle of ink that he'd placed next to his left side on the log bench and set it between them to state matter-of-factly, "All _true_ writers of this time know this."

"When you publish your book titled 'The Assassin in a Nutshell', you can boast" she scoffed to his haughty tone since she could write quite well since she'd completed the necessary English classes for her degree. It wasn't her fault that Arabic script was tough to write as it used a different alphabet than her Roman one, not to mention that languages changed over time so the current Arabic of her time could be entirely different.

"Write the alphabet" he ordered curtly as the joke failed to land, handing her the materials and she groaned to her educational punishment. The man made a better assassin than a teacher and she longed to have Malik continue the lectures but when you needed help, aid was acceptable from a grumpy Altaïr. She quickly scribbled her letters to show him her best skills, hoping she'd manage to light one tiny flame of approval while keeping the butterflies in her stomach at bay since having him loom over her shoulder unnerved most people. His lips curled into a dismayed frown at the horrible calligraphy he was witnessing and remembered fixing her words on Malik's 'coupons'. He'd assumed her nervousness and the unbearable heat were factors to the sloppy writing but he realized it was how she really wrote, sighing dismally, "Vivian, you're like a child."

"Yeah, well . . . I got nothin'" she sighed hopelessly with pout as her brain failed to fart out a retort and dropped her quill on the paper, disappointed that she couldn't make her penmanship neat. She was uneasy using ink since liquid was messier than solid charcoal, holding the feather away from the paper to prevent any drips and requested with a dramatically wide smile, "Help this hopeless beginner, will you?"

* * *

_Thank you for reading and please review. Oh, and tell me how AC 3 is for those who have it because I've yet to buy it and I don't mind spoilers._


	25. Altair: Grand Master, Assassin Daddy

**Inspired By: **Two Steps From Hell- _"Friendship To Last" _

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**Altaïr: Grand Master, Assassin. . .Daddy?  
**

* * *

Altaïr turned out to be quite the caretaker as he checked on Vivian like a normal friend rather than a no nonsense leader that wanted to keep her moving on track with schedule. It was a rather nice change from his usual tough guy behavior and she hoped that it wouldn't leave once she was back to normal. Somehow, she knew snappish Altaïr was ready to sprout from the shadows with those sharp talons of his to sink into her humorous anecdotes with logical ferocity. Once she was back in tiptop shape, she would welcome the deadly dance like a petite hermit crab raising its claws against another hermit crab that wanted to rob its shell.

"Do you know what I love about Vivian's shifting moods?" Malik mused on the third day as they rested on a shady part of the riverbank after recently returning from a trip to the first outpost that Amon had given them. They had traded for goods and Altaïr had posted cryptic letters for personal delivery to Amon, which would be forwarded and deciphered by Ilias back home. Vivian, unfortunately, was forced to stay behind at camp under Altaïr's orders to prevent any injuries. The unlucky woman was stuck making stick dolls out of twigs with grass to occupy her time and had chucked them at him as projectiles upon return.

"If you tell me that she'll be a field ready for sowing, I will murder you and throw Vivian after you" the assassin replied tartly as he brushed his robes clean of lingering wooden debris from her earlier attack. Although it had been pettily weak, small fragments broke off to stick onto the fabric of his robes and the brown was easily seen against the bone white cloth. Also, the dolls had looked absolutely monstrous and he wanted them nowhere near his person.

Malik laughed aloud to his farming joke, his amused laugh echoing in the empty riverbank and he answered with a smug grin, "She only becomes enraged with _you_."

"When hasn't she been?" he pointed out disgruntled and continued writing in his codex book to scribble down his recent thoughts about the newest piece of Eden. His first time wielding the item was within an empty field where neither of his friends was stationed to protect them from any effects. He was surprised to see similar images of the past and future, all very similar to the Apple, but that was all he'd gotten so far. He wasn't eager to delve further and gain inhuman abilities so he'd take in one day at a time. Vivian had warned him that the Templars would one day find a way to relieve memories through one's ancestors and he didn't want his descendants leading _them_ to his hard-earned discoveries. He was working hard to protect their order but his memories would ironically give their enemies information in the future if they happened to fall into the wrong clutches. How could he protect himself against that?

Those eerie beings brought him questions about how many ancient (and current) religions had contained those regaled 'gods' when advanced technology is what brought them their gifts. It couldn't be that the old Roman religion was the only one that had been infiltrated by whoever 'they' were. It sent a chill down his spine to who they were because nobody could find those exact answers and his friends agreed. They wondered what the true origins of their species had been and where 'they' came from. Had they come from a different continent? World? Realm? Time? He didn't hesitate to pose those questions in his codex and quietly scribbled his many thoughts in neat calligraphy.

"I can hear you two quite clearly" Vivian's voice mixed in as she added spices to a naked pheasant Altaïr had bought from the trading post, preparing the meal for their evening. She didn't want to slack off in her share of the load and although it hurt to walk endlessly, she was able to partake in tasks that only required sitting. Altaïr swore her senses increased tenfold in the past days as each little sound irked or frightened her (he'd no idea what these 'hormones' were called) and she wagged a nagging finger from her spot across at camp to protest, "I should stuff the end of this thing on your head, you know."

"It would still turn out delicious" he retorted with a cocky smirk and instead of watching her cheeks puff in rage, she grinned at the comeback. Her fingers returned to rubbing spices and light dashes of salt underneath the pink skin while shaking her head in amusement to the clever jabs. Knowing the awesomeness of Altaïr, the pheasant would magically earn a fantastic flavor and Vivian burst into loud giggles when she glanced at the man scribbling into his book. He'd give a whole new meaning to food mascots if he decided to graze the front of a seasoned salt bottle- at least he had the white outfit to match.

Altaïr decided her random giggle fit was aimed towards him as usual but let her be since nothing was exchanged and she wasn't biting his head off. The wrathful dragon was receding back into its dark abyss to let the witty badger escape from its burrow to roam peaceful pastures once more. He decided it was safe enough to verbally poke her since she was snickering to herself and called across the shady field, "Will you be keeping that rage into the week? With this travel schedule, I'll be training you relentlessly."

She groaned miserably because although it wasn't anything dealing with assassin skills, Altaïr would kick her ass across the field with something innocent like defense training. Was it too late to play nice after all the stuff she'd yelled at him in the past three days? Could she make a comeback from making a euphemism about hidden blades? Poking fun to his tendencies to hug walls? Having a deathly fear of water? Yelling at him that she'd castrate him if he rowed too fast? No. . . . definitely no. Hormones, was there anyone you hadn't embarrassed?

* * *

Night had fallen over their campsite and brought a refreshing cool breeze that relieved the weary travelers as they'd eaten their dinner. Vivian was glad for the lack of firearms in their era because preparing a catch riddled with bullet fragments would've made cleaning it difficult and was glad that she only had to fish out an arrowhead. Altaïr had insisted he prepare the bird but sick or not, Vivian would be horribly bedridden on her last breath before she let the man near the spices. Even Malik had wrestled a catch from him more than once because losing all of their expensive salt at his hands wasn't worth it but poor Altaïr was simply too stubborn to fix his cooking skills. To him, salt was the only ingredient needed to give flavor to food but the assassin literally poured it onto food rather than added pinched calculated dashes so everybody suffered when he put on a chef's hat.

Malik had retired for the night to read one of his books before heading to sleep, the light from his candle lantern glowing against the walls of the tent. Altaïr had chosen to write alongside the campfire in his travel journal as he decided to take a break from his POE ponderings. Vivian sat below him on the bare ground as she practiced her developing Arabic script on a piece of parchment. It definitely wasn't as easy as English but the calligraphy was quite elegant . . . too refined for her inexperienced hands. Although the mechanism that allowed her to understand their language was as unknown as her arrival, she wanted to learn their language in case it failed one day. Listening to Altaïr rant in Arabic would be quite the humorous sight but she'd rather understand his words. While she'd scribbled away, he'd taken notice of the sloppy penmanship since Malik's coupons had given him quite the comparison in their writing skills and he'd ripped the paper out of her hands to teach her.

Normally, it was Malik's job to take care of her language skills- and just about _everything_ else- but Altaïr couldn't bear to see his language tarnished by those slender sloppy hands. Vivian bore her first lesson with the assassin when he could no longer withstand her chicken scratch and he'd surprised her by declaring an immediate writing lesson. He accented just about everything as important, her head nodding away mechanically to ensure she was listening but when he began to recite the history of the language . . . she zoned out. She loved history and craved knowledge like any bookworm but there was great variation between both assassins in their teaching approach. When Malik spoke, he garnered attention as he spoke with lively enthusiasm whereas Altaïr sucked the light out of the sun when he preached with a tone of superiority that bored her. She rotated the round pendant of her mother's necklace between her forefingers and briefly wondered how it was the only object in her possession that traveled with her. How she came to find herself in assassin garb was beyond her; it was mind boggling.

"Are you listening?" he called for attention since he'd gotten to the point where mankind learned to write but caught the glazed faraway look in her eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than ignorance, it was feigned interest that wasted his time.

"Bite the brush and drink the ink, got it" she grinned cheekily to poke the stern eagle but snapped out of her realm of questions to pay full attention as her glazed look faded to make way for a perky expression. His brows were knitted together in displeasure and his Botox worthy lips were set in a frown, clearly displaying she'd upset his highness once more. Hmm, what was her record so far? Seven scowls in one day? She waved her hands dismissively to show she was committed to learning, huddling against the log behind her, and stated assuredly, "Of course, I'm listening but I'm more of a hands-on learner- why do you think I chose history? Can we skip the history for tonight and start practicing? I can learn it from Malik during our canoe ride to pass the time."

He denied handing over his writing quill, twirling it between his dexterous fingers, and chided smugly, "Impatient, are we?"

"I think we know who the impatient one is here" she quipped back with a small smirk since his patience extinguished rapidly when she was involved and pulled out her piece of charcoal to begin writing. Vivian preferred a stable non-liquid writing tool that wouldn't leave her fingers smeared or held the potential of ruining her work. With an impish maniacal laugh, she began writing on her clean piece of paper but that was a huge no-no for Professor Altaïr. He snatched it out of her grip with his flawless agility (not to mention strength), eliciting an adamant protest since it was her last piece and she wasn't keen on relinquishing it. She hadn't expected to wrestle with the equivalence of Professor Snape in the Middle Ages and tugged for her precious charcoal, hissing protectively, "Give that back, you!"

"Charcoal is not for writing, you need decent ink" he instructed shrewdly on her awful choice and pocketed the charcoal in one of his belt's pouches until the lesson finished. Vivian narrowed her eyes for having her tool swiped without her consent but her nonverbal attempt to intimidate him failed. He sat above her on the log like the watchful eagle that he was and her huddled form did more harm than good for her defiant expression. He opened a wooden bottle of ink that he'd placed next to his left side on the log bench and set it between them to state matter-of-factly, "All _true_ writers of this time know this."

"When you publish your book titled 'The Assassin in a Nutshell' or 'Chicken Soup for the Assassin Soul', you can boast" she scoffed to his haughty tone since she could write quite well since she'd completed the necessary English classes for her degree. It wasn't her fault that Arabic script was tough to write as it used a different alphabet than her Roman one. Not to mention, languages changed over time along with the culture so the current Arabic of her time could be entirely different. Her lips broke into a naughty smile that he narrowed his eyes towards immediately to repel it and she teased playfully, "Oh, how about this one: 'The Erotic Adventures of Altaïr-"

"Write the alphabet" he ordered curtly as the crude joke failed to land, handing her the materials and she groaned to her educational punishment. The man made a better assassin than a teacher and she longed to have Malik continue the lectures but when you needed help, aid was acceptable from a grumpy Altaïr. She quickly scribbled her letters to show him her best skills and hoped she'd manage to light one tiny flame of approval. It was tough keeping the butterflies in her stomach at bay since having him loom over her shoulder like an ominous phantom in white unnerved most people. His lips curled into a dismayed frown at the horrible- even that was an understatement- calligraphy he was witnessing and remembered fixing her words on Malik's 'coupons'. He'd assumed her nervousness and the unbearable heat were factors to the sloppy writing but he eventually realized it was how she really wrote. He resisted groaning miserably into his hands like he'd done in his youth when he accidentally mixed the red sashes in with the white laundry washing basin and sighed dismally, "Vivian, you're like a child."

"Yeah, well . . . I got nothin'" she sighed hopelessly with a pout as her brain failed to fart out a retort and dropped her quill on the paper, disappointed that she couldn't make her penmanship neat. She was uneasy using ink since liquid was messier than solid charcoal and quickly held the feather away from the paper to prevent any drips. Her eyes brightened against the glow of the fire as she met his stern gaze and requested with a dramatically wide smile, "Help this hopeless beginner, will you?"

He shook his head to her goofy expression and took the quill from her hand to write the word 'house' while instructing her to copy it legibly. Thankfully, she did better on the second try but her writing slanted slightly with the lack of lines on the paper. He leaned over to grasp her hand and helped to guide her second repeat, correcting her strokes carefully to show where her mistakes were being made. Her lips widened into a bright smile as she slowly corrected her errors, biting her lower lip in concentration to make sure she didn't cause the assassin to sigh melodramatically. She didn't know whether sloppy writing or being nagged was worse and felt like a baby bird when he released her hand to allow her to focus on writing a sentence alone. When finished, she handed him the quill and showed him her work while musing softly, "I hate that I can read this but can't write it myself. It feels like a horrible cheat."

"But you are pushing yourself to learn and not falling into the false sense of security it gives you" Altaïr stated simply and she smiled faintly when she realized he was encouraging her rather than nagging. Well, if that wasn't a tiny ego booster, she didn't know what was. He wrote a few more words for her to copy and she took her time to gently write each to match the elegant calligraphy of the assassin.

"For a man that hasn't gotten an elite education like royalty, your penmanship is beautiful" she complimented softly while watching him scribble in elegant Arabic as he wrote another everyday sentence for her to learn. Goodness, the man was as flawless with assassinating as he was with his calligraphy. He twisted the quill with perfect precision to thin or thicken his script while she'd sloppily written her words in any legible way she could. She cast aside her shortcomings to peer at his hand movements (the writing was almost hypnotic) and mused about the strange occurrences in her life since entering his world, "It's eerie how I can understand you yet I know nothing of your language in reality . . . it scares me. I don't want to wake up one day and find myself not understanding a word either of you says."

"Thank you but none of us really knows the mechanism of your arrival so it's natural" he stated earnestly since he didn't know much about her origin into Jerusalem either but could see that the mystery troubled her. The woman missed her family constantly but failed to voice it, leaving it readable in her body movements and paralanguage when they interacted. She might have the tenacity of a European badger in her veins but she was a kindhearted person, leading him to encourage her plight, "You will find your answers, Vivian, and your way home. I am glad for whatever force granted you the gift to understand us fluently. Otherwise, my English would be a bit hard to understand since my exposure has been due to the Templars and other Crusaders- my accent is horrible to hear."

_Pal, you have a voice that can knock a girl's socks off,_ she thought privately with mischief about his sincere comment since there were words of his language she couldn't catch sometimes and the accent tied to it was beautiful. As charismatic and eye ogling that Ezio could be (hey, even Desmond), Altaïr carried his own exoticness without needing to smile or strut down a dirt path. _You can read a phone book and I'd be happy for a week just to have heard it. Even your gibberish would melt fans!_

"I don't know, it might've made life easier without me mouthing off every few hours" she joked lightly with a carefree chuckle since her rambling grated his nerves when he wanted silence to bask in. After all, they hadn't agreed on her motor mouth since their first meeting and he'd ordered her to stay in a corner more than once in punishment. Archaic times were strange when he'd reverted to primary school tactics to push her into behaving but she preferred that instead of being whipped or manhandled. She admired that about him because no matter how angry he became, he never lost his honor by daring to strike her or threatening to do so. Other men in these times (Malik excluded) weren't so kind to her gender.

He smiled faintly to her words since it was rare for him to hear compliments from others. His lips broke into an amused smile when she pointed to one of his letters in emphasis and added sheepishly, "I like that dot."

"It is a rasm, it helps distinguish between letters and their sounds" he explained helpfully and tried not to laugh at her curious expression as pouty mauve lips formed an 'o' of understanding. He had no idea how lost she truly was in understand their Arabic script and decided that she needed a decent teacher that wouldn't let her slide out of hard work with her silly jigs or singing (reminding himself to tell Malik to toughen up). The dai carried a gentler hand in teaching that he didn't but Vivian had a mind fit for any male scholar of his time and Altaïr wouldn't hinder teaching her due to society's norm against educating women. He pointed the tip of the quill in her direction and proposed simply with a piercing gaze that was practically nonnegotiable to her, "I can help you learn my language so you don't feel lost since it seems Malik's been going easy on the lessons. . .if you'd like?"

Leaning over to nudge the side of his lower leg with her right shoulder, she gave him a cheshire grin that the glowing fire shadowed and preened, "Great, I can check your vocabulary to see if it's as fantastic as your writing. Oh, and pass you notes when you impose a silence rule."

"You just keep finding new ways to wound _and_ annoy me, Vivian" he feigned a dismal sigh to her eccentric personality quirks and shook his head to the goofy grin on her face. Out of all the women in his time and realm, they brought him the witty historian of the twenty-first century. Altaïr decided to count himself lucky since she did have her uses and was slowly adapting to her decoy skills (not to mention notorious lying and looting) so her tagging along was not a waste as he'd originally believed. There was no point in ever training her in their ways, aside from basic self-defense, because Vivian made it quite clear that she didn't want to be an assassin in any way for fear she'd break her skull open attempting parkour.

She chuckled softly to his light jesting, surprised he'd even uttered such humorous quips with his stoic personality but appreciated his attempt at bridging a connection. It didn't make her feel so alone when they interacted and she teased back with her sharp wit, "Well, it's only because you keep me on my toes with your grumpy logic."

"I'm not grumpy" he objected snippily with offense, full lips frowning in his classical 'thou shall not insult' face that helped don him of that specific comparison. This is why she preferred the abrasive assassin over Ezio because Altaïr's lack of a funny bone was humorous in itself.

She winked in accordance to his lie, the modern meaning lost in translation to the man, and grinned to restate impishly, "Right, you're _broody_. Either way, you make life interesting and it keeps my mind away from home."

He smiled faintly against the warm glow of the fire since most avoided him due to his quiet nature, even among his own because of his ranking. Yes, he was sought when it came to training or strategic input but Altaïr had been taught by Al Mualim to be solitary and independent- something that he now saw as a hindrance and benefit. Vivian decided to cheer him up in her own outlandish way as she took it upon herself to keep his mind out of its dark crevices. Taking advantage of his silence, she began the next thirty seconds that would weigh in comparison to living nightmares.

"For that, I will grant you a boon of a song:  
_People let me tell you 'bout my assassin friend,  
He's a brave grumpy man who'll poke me till the end.  
People let me tell you 'bout my assassin friend,  
He's a one man army, my up, my down, my bane and joy."_

He groaned miserably to that screechy voice that had temporarily ceased during their stay in Giza and didn't want to see its horrible return. It took a lot to make the mighty assassin groan but Vivian managed to do so in under a minute. Raising his hands in obvious protest, he objected quickly with a vehement shake of his head to sigh exasperatedly, "No, Vivian, _no_-"

She stopped her banshee's cry and tapped her fingers sheepishly and he sighed in relief that he'd closed Pandora's Box before his eardrums exploded, pinching the bridge of his nose to dull any pain in his head. Vivian's eyes darted comically around the campground as she ran through ideas in her mind and opened her mouth to pipe up with its next suggestion, "Okay, how about. . .

_I'm a pint-sized historian that can dance like a man,  
I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!  
I'm a smart tootin' historian, I can punch-ah yo buns!  
Punch-ah yo buns, I can punch-all yo buns!  
If you're an evil Templar, I will punch you for fun!"_

"Don't make me punch _you_ for fun" he growled as the tune was rather catchy in rhythm, especially when she spun her hands in song, but refused to acknowledge the humor in it. There was absolutely no way he was falling into her humorous traps since he lacked that trait in his personality . . . but he allowed it to remain in hers. It was complementary to his and it helped to lighten tense situations most of the time when he was ready to burst or exhausted, leading him to order, "Now finish your writing."

"Only because you listened for ten seconds before exploding this time" she smiled cheekily and listened to his request dutifully, practicing her calligraphy with a keen eye this time. Despite her banter, Vivian was a studious woman and she wouldn't take her lessons lightly because there might be a time when she would have need of them.

* * *

Vivian was a happy puppy when she finally ventured with her partners to one of the outpost settlements Amon had given them. The Nile kept civilization close due to the fertile land but as they ventured further south, communities would become sparse as governments dominated different portions of Africa. The south was untamed with hunter-gatherer tribes but the coast held trading ports that brought travelers from the north so it would help keep them in the loop with news. Their path south of the Nile would be incredibly long since it was the largest river in the world for a reason (not to mention battling the downstream current) and they'd pass countries before hitting Uganda to travel into Kenya.

She'd been stocking up on delicious lentils and beans, her eyes straying to wheat flour at each stall and wishing she had an oven at hand to bake a sweet cake. Oh, what she'd give for a scrap of chocolate! Of course, all she had now were dreams where she could go into a See's factory and indulge imaginatively. The endless travel didn't afford them much sugar or salt due to their high prices (this was the basic form of it, mind you) so her palate was sated with aromatic herbs. At the current moment, Vivian stood inside a fabric shop with shelves that dwarfed her petite size as different rolls of fabric were wedged into the shelves for storage. Her arms were full with a bundle of different colored cloths, each richly beautiful in color but rejected by one finicky assassin.

"I refuse to wear anything that clashes with my sash- it is our trademark" he snapped indignantly as he folded a caramel toned fabric to place it in her arms and add it to the growing bundle. Vivian was just about ready to tip over in the store as he'd stacked rolls of fabric to the point that she could barely see the man anymore. She'd taken on the agonizing task since Malik could no longer bear the complaints and had gone to check the postal office for any mail concerning them because the place would be free of Altaïr's comments.

Messengers of their time traveled nonstop on horses or camels (boats for international shipping) so they'd be getting to outposts faster with their routes in comparison to them. It was a sad day for Vivian when she realized they were slower but their team was covering more ground and being careful in their movements to remain covert. Amon's first letters had arrived at the second outpost as promised and Altaïr had been happy to know the alliance was confirmed and Ilias would deploy a new rafiq and assassins to protect Giza's first bureau. It was an accomplishment that he hadn't expected until a few more years and was glad for it; he wasn't a man that liked change but sometimes, it was required.

"Sometimes, I think you become a petulant child for the attention" Vivian muttered dryly because she wasn't keen on holding heavy fabrics to play as his inanimate dresser. Thankfully, a store assistant came to collect the rejected fabric options to restock them back into the handcrafted shelves of the store before Vivian tipped over like an old redwood tree. She thanked the young woman, a slim teenager that somehow managed to carry the huge pile in her thin arms and smiled amicably, "My apologies, my husband is quite the character with clothing."

"It's times like this that I question our marriage" he shot back grimly as he studied a brown chocolate cloth between his fingertips while the young woman scuttled off before the 'couple' began to quarrel. He wanted a decent color to help blend into their surroundings but nothing appeared suitable to his finicky eye while Vivian had half a mind to tell him of Ezio's options (mmm, that man had an eye for attractive colors). It was a shame she couldn't see how far he'd aged now because his physical features took it in stride like a fine wine. Scholars would be rare heading south and traders would be the majority of a population along the coast so white wouldn't be a good everyday option. Black was too severe and trapped heat quickly while tawny hues clashed against his sunkissed skin.

Vivian sat down on a nearby stool, placing her pack full of newly bought items on the floor since they weren't going anywhere. His clothes shopping could take a while, wondering a man of his caliber put so much attention to detail, and smirked mischievously with a wink, "Well, maybe that's why you'll never get children."

"If they turned out like you, it's best I didn't" he preened smugly with that trademark smirk that had driven her bonkers during the first week. He was a good verbal foe and she handed him the point since his skills certainly outmatched hers. Although, it would've been hilarious to see an army of mini-Vivians' attacking him in her honor.

The rich chocolate hue of the fabric matched beautifully with his white robes and gray trousers, leading her to state, "I think that color is the best I've seen. Everyone wears a brown of some sort here and it'll match the trees once we travel on land. It compliments your eyes," quickly, she added in, "It'll double your intimidating glare. Enemies _hate_ glower power."

Altaïr, as always, was ready to pick at the tiniest reasons not to buy it, "The white might overpower-"

"Altaïr, so help me, if you unload another bundle of fabric I will throw your pack in the river and leave you without clothes" she threatened for the first time as his meticulous picking was grating on her last nerve, especially after he'd drank the last of her water and refused to refill the canteen until they left. There was only so much patience she could wield and being used as a dresser for his rejected fabrics zapped a lot of it. She placed her hands on her hips in the classic 'you better check yourself before you wreck yourself' pose to show she meant business this time. His left eyebrow rose in curiosity to the petite historian that dared to defy him as her cheeks flushed with restrained annoyance and her voice snapped shrilly, "I will-"

He grabbed her mouth to seize her angry nagging, pressing his fingers against her teeth to keep her lips ajar to prevent her tongue from touching her teeth for sound. Since she'd begun to wear her hair in a neat braid, he could see the tips of her ears turn red whenever flustered and he smirked to tease, "Fine, but only because you resemble a pomegranate when you're mad."

Her lips pursed to the comparison and he released her, grabbing the roll of fabric in one hand to find the store merchant or one of his helpers for the purchase. She grabbed her plump pack to follow after the assassin and was glad to be done with the task because he'd almost driven her to murder. Her feet practically pranced onto the dusty unpaved paths of the settlement and her gaze observed every little thing from the women shopping for goods to the domesticated animals that wandered the area. She pouted when a small goat passed by with its owner that held a basket full of brown eggs in his hand and lamented not patting the adorable herbivore.

When he rejoined her with his new purchase, her face fell when he commented that goat would be nice for dinner that night and she tried wiping away the image of the little goat on a plate. He was wonderful for bursting dream bubbles, wasn't he? The two waited outside the store for Malik since they told him to meet them there to prevent becoming lost in the settlement. Also, they were constantly wary of spotting any Templars or spies working for them because a knife in the back could come from just about anywhere- maybe from that innocent goat. No, no, now she was letting her imagination get carried away with goat assassins. She fished into her pockets to pull out a few scraps of hard candy and offered warmly, "Candy?"

"Woman, is that all you buy with your coin?" he questioned incredulously since she always had a little bag handy but grabbed one to enjoy nonetheless. She made sure he'd placed the candy in his mouth before lightly smacking the leather belt over his waist in revenge for the jab. He batted her pesky little hand away and countered his candy acceptance by quickly adding in, "This does _not_ mean I approve."

Malik didn't keep them waiting for long since it took a while to sort through all of the folded letters and packages in the small office so Altaïr's shopping cut down on the time. His expression was calm as always, his lips breaking into a smile when Vivian waved rapidly to him, but his posture was a different story. Normally, the dai carried himself with relaxed shoulders but they stiffened when he came to a stop. Uh-oh, trouble in AC land. Both Altaïr and Vivian were instantly curious to what caused the quick behavioral change and the dai informed the duo, "Amon's letters arrived and there's something you need to see. I'd suggest composing a letter right away."

The three moved to a private spot under a shady tree, a stack of nearby crates helping to conceal them. Ah, crates, the stink lacking alternative to hay and always there to hide assassin business. Malik quickly pulled out the letters Ilias had written for him, the cryptic Arabic script written for brotherhood eyes only along with their alias, and handed Altaïr a specific letter from the bundle. His honey eyes scanned through the letter as he read about Templar movements heading south, the news of the end of the Third Crusade. . .

"The Crusades have ended and nothing concrete will hold the Templars in our lands anymore" he sighed with relief that war would no longer ravage the land and ruin the lives of civilians, wondering if this was the news that Malik had wanted him to see. Glancing up from the letter, the dai motioned with his hand that he keep reading and Altaïr murmured, "Our recruits are on their first missions, this is good-"

"Keep reading" Malik insisted but the previous news was indeed celebration worthy since both parties in the war had taken losses.

Altaïr read about the newest assassins being deployed for information gathering now that the Templars held no ground in Jerusalem. His eyes widened to their fullest on the last sentences of the letter where Ilias had written: _'the newest arrival of your old partner, Maria, has unsettled a few but she's been no threat to us as of yet. One important fact that has drawn everyone's attention is that she is expecting and she's confided in me by admitting the child is yours. I think it would be best for her to stay here until you return and a reply letter would be helpful in managing this situation. Seeing as you're not due to arrive for more than a year, a plan would benefit both of you.'_

His entire body stiffened to the news because that was the _last_ thing he'd expected Maria to spring upon him when she decided to take his offer. He'd become fond of the woman with their partnership as they sabotaged Templar plans (what assassin wouldn't love that?) but while he'd needed to return to Masyaf, she'd headed north to Turkey for further reconnaissance. Their adventures had led him to hope that a relationship would flourish, no matter how unorthodox it would be after being previous enemies, but Maria had clearly stated she wasn't looking for anything long-term. She was emotionally guarded due to her past and although Altaïr respected that she needed to find answers for an order she'd once respected and believed would help womankind, she'd remained elusive with her heart. It hurt him since his feelings had already formed and was forced to abandon them to respect her choice. Nonetheless, he advised her that one day she'd have to open herself to that vulnerability as it held strength. She was a lone wolf but wolves always needed a pack to thrive to their fullest potential.

His voice shook uncharacteristically as he gazed at his companions to admit hesitantly, "I . . . um, I am going to be a father."

Malik didn't know what to say since his friend wasn't exactly beaming with joy like a man that had been waiting for such a precious milestone in his life. Altaïr felt as if the ground would give way at any moment to send him flying into a dark abyss because the news was unexpected, stunning him down to his very bones. He wasn't ready to be a father yet! Goodness, he couldn't even afford a pet! Vivian broke the silence by clapping her hands at the most inopportune time, missing Altaïr's stunned face, and declared jovially, "Yes!"

His glare power reached a new level as he targeted the misfortunate woman and seethed angrily to her reaction, "How can you possibly _cheer_ at a moment like this? If you're this joyous, go finish my mission while I retrace the entire trip back to Masyaf."

Vivian wasn't going to tempt fate since this was a monumental moment in his life that would ensure his lineage down create Desmond, keeping her mouth shut on the matter. Still, it wasn't very nice to be yelled at for accidentally uttering the wrong thing (wasn't he supposed to be _joyous_ instead or murderous?) and cursed her optimism for opening her mouth prematurely. She physically withdrew from the conversation to leave the two assassins to their business and politely excused herself, "I apologize and I'll head back to camp now."

She was happy that the timeline was proceeding as planned but his reaction to the whole thing was entirely unexpected. It left her stomach uneasy and it wasn't due to the yelling since she'd been down that road before. Hadn't Ubisoft portrayed the two quite happily after their initial dislike? Who wouldn't like a strong woman that left everything behind to find herself in the world and sate that wanderlust? Heck, _she_ was a woman and fancied Maria ten times better than that Adha woman. Ugh, she still had nightmares from that game. Vivian had no idea what happened in Altaïr's life after that Acre moment in the second game but then again, there were games already in production that she was missing back at home. The fact that she'd return home many months from now was disheartening and having to greet the next descendant after the charming Ezio didn't help either. The longing for home reminded her of the empty canteen at her side and she headed to refill it at a merchant's stall before heading down the main path to head back to camp. It wasn't a very long walk, half an hour at the most so she wasn't sweating the return back.

Altaïr managed to calm himself down after a few minutes as he absorbed the news with a cool head. It wasn't his child's fault that they'd come at the most turbulent of times in his life. He couldn't be there for them since he'd embarked on his one-way trip without worries and now, he had a monumental one. He lacked any sort of bond with his parents but that didn't mean he wanted the same with his own children one day. However, it seemed he'd unwillingly have to have his first while on his current mission and didn't know how to handle the new situation. He sighed softly under his breath as he leaned against the cool bark of the tree and asked his closest confidante for help, "How am I supposed to deal with this? It is unexpected and the fact that I won't make the best father with this dangerous profession isn't filling me with hope for giving that child a future."

"Take it one day at a time, write a quick note to Ilias and sort through all of this at camp where nobody can overhear us" Malik advised to keep his friend from going on a rampage and took back the letter to tuck them into a chest pocket inside the lining of his robes for safekeeping. There wasn't much he could offer on handling upcoming parenthood since he lacked children and patted his friend on the shoulder to encourage gently, "This is not a topic you can accept overnight so be careful in your wording to both Ilias and Maria. Oh, and play nice with Vivian when you return- you crushed her like a poor ant under a boot."

He groaned miserably to his lousy day and headed for the mail office to write his encrypted message for sendoff.

* * *

Altaïr poked the fire with a blood freezing scowl on his face that had failed to leave since returning to camp in the afternoon. Vivian had stammered nervously in accepting his apology from the intimidating glare alone and had scampered off to tend to her chores to escape the evil eye. She didn't even want the apology since his entire aura had shifted tremendously after reading that letter and wanted to flee from the new 'murderously scowling' Altaïr. Supper had been a quiet affair as none treaded into his personal space for more than one meter and Altaïr's companions felt like they were walking on broken glass around him.

As for the assassin himself, he'd written a cordial letter to inform Maria that she would be welcome at Masyaf for as long as she wished and to take care of her. . .their. . .child. Since they didn't have any sort of romantic relationship in the present, he would leave that in her corner because he was certain she'd run off if he dared to propose marriage for the benefit of the child. Their relationship, or lack of one, had placed them in a strange circumstance since she'd wanted no emotional entanglement while he had. After being apart for four months, his mind was all over the place on how to handle the situation because he'd never been prepared for this stage in his life! All in all, he was literally screwed with this new conundrum.

His mind snapped out of its ruminations when he heard rustling to his left and shifted his gaze to find Vivian removing a bag with sweet bread from her pack. Their eyes met and hers widened immediately to the size of dinner plates at being caught like a deer in headlights, causing her to bolt back inside her tent. Altaïr found that extremely odd, especially with her behavior, and look to Malik to find the dai suddenly engrossed with a book he'd instantly picked up. If this wasn't obvious avoidance, he didn't know what was.

"Did I accidentally smear blood on my face?" he questioned aloud for clarification to unveil this new mystery because his cup was full for the day and he wanted to bask in peace. Malik slowly lowered his book by an inch so only his dark eyes were visible behind it and Altaïr resisted groaning with annoyance. He'd often seen this look on his friend during adolescence when he didn't want to become involved in Altaïr's problem of the day and cautiously treaded forward with that simple maneuver. Malik saw the flicker of irritancy on his frowning face and coughed nonchalantly, returning to his book once more with focus and Altaïr snapped tightly, "Malik! I demand an answer."

As if the situation wasn't odd enough, he could feel a pair of eyes on his back and turned swiftly to find Vivian peeking out from behind the flap of her tent. Her eyes widened before she ducked behind the sleeve to hide once more but Malik took this chance (mostly because Altaïr's glare was gone) to admit, "Your nonverbal behavior clearly displays a negative aura so Vivian and I decided to tread quietly around you. You need time to absorb this news-"

"I'm not frail glass, Malik" he interjected shrewdly with offense for being dared to be treated as such because that was aimed more towards the fairer gender (not that they were weak). He was an assassin! It would take much more than that to knock the air out of him and leave him unconscious. He used the stick in his hand to poke at the flap of Vivian's tent, poking something soft that elicited a surprised squeak from its snooping inhabitant. The humorous 'eep' sound was almost enough to cast aside his stern expression but he ordered firmly, "And get out of there, you're not a mouse."

Vivian slowly crept out of her hiding spot but kept her eyes covered as she walked slowly and declared, "Okay, but I refuse to look into Medusa's glare."

"You were a hydra itself but you didn't hear me complaining days ago" he shot back coldly since she didn't need to tread cautiously around him and almost sighed when she imitated a crab's walk to go around the log bench. She baffled him with every passing day and hoped that he'd begin assimilating her odd quirks during their travels because sanity was a requirement for a successful mission. Now that he looked at Vivian, he was thankful that Maria carried his child because she could hold her own in the harsh world while his companion. . .

"Sweet, I found a piece of cheese!" she cried jovially when she sat down next to Malik and fished out the morsel from her left pocket as if it were the most prized item in the world. Yes, Altaïr could've done much worse in choosing a partner but grimaced mentally at having Vivian as the con example. She wasn't a woman from his times so no wonder she flew out into the negative zones of his radius but even so, she'd admitted her bookworm persona didn't drawn many eyes. The fact that she became delighted with just about anything told him she'd be babbling more over his child than either he or Maria- which she'd started to back before he silenced her.

"We wanted to give you a quiet night where you could dwell on this to help you find answers" Malik stated easily as he placed his book down on the log bench and Vivian nodded as she bit into her linty piece of cheese (food was food, right?). Altaïr wasn't the type of man that became in tuned with his feelings or displayed them publicly, leading him to frown at the horrible idea. While Vivian shrunk away from his piercing stare of doom, the dai remained unflinching in his seat and deliberated calmly, "You have been handed life-changing news that don't necessarily bring negativity. It will have Maria safe at Masyaf and the Templar threat is declining in our lands so for the moment, they are safe. What concerns you, I believe, is what your place is in all of this."

_Ooh, a dai with therapist skills_, Vivian thought impressively and rested her elbows on her knees to listen intently.

"I'm in the middle of Egypt somewhere, I think that shows how far away I am" the assassin replied stiffly and growled when Vivian shushed him for using terse words against the dai. Nobody shushed her super awesome 'away from home' best friend. She raised Malik's book to ward off his petrifying look and he dismissed her, looking to his friend to state sharply, "This is not what I expected in our journey and we're not at the half point yet- or the half _of_ the half point! Regardless of what happens between Maria and me, I don't want my child to grow up without me by their side. Yes, I haven't exactly had the best role models and I'd sooner stab myself in the knee than change their soiled underclothes but that's _my_ child."

_Aw, he's having his first fatherly moment_, Vivian thought sweetly from her spot since these were pivotal moments in the life of the assassin that began it all. Forget watching Ezio make women swoon, she wanted to see the super baby of Altaïr and Maria.

A wave of nausea and uncertainty struck him because his life had branched outwards to contain an unborn child that he had absolutely no idea how to care for. This was not in any of his areas of expertise and he furrowed his brow to contain his distaste to the new vulnerability. Vivian offered him a sympathetic smile since she'd seen a similar face on her father after the widowed grief dulled and he realized he had three young girls to care for. It was a new shift in identity as life threw everyone curve balls and she soothed, "You're walking on new ground and you've yet to find your footing. It's natural to be apprehensive but you're not alone, Maria's doing her part and you can find a way to keep in touch until we run out of offices to post mail from. All you can do is show you care and you are."

"That . . . did not help at all" he muttered flatly as her words carried nothing to sprout ideas from and she sighed exasperatedly since she wasn't a mind reader. Malik threw him a small canteen and quickly told him it was wine since the liquid did wonders to a worried heart when words failed to help. Altaïr shook the item in emphasis towards Vivian as he pointed out haughtily, "See? _This_ is a better option."

"Yeah, I forget I'm around men whose social roles deny them emotional expression and they hit the bottle to cope" she shot back dryly since she'd hit the bottle herself on the second day of her cycle to dull her pain but ended up in a horrible giggling fit. Well, that's what Altaïr told her after he and Malik discovered she was a light weight and half a cup knocked her out. It was shameful in drinking terms but she wouldn't give the six foot tall assassin the benefit of hearing it but Malik was always an exception (she'd practically drawn a cartoon halo on the dai).

"And don't you forget it" Altaïr stated proudly with a nod since alcohol was his last resort when he couldn't waste away stressful energy with training. Besides, people drank alcohol with most of their meals instead of water as it killed off more microorganisms with its acidity. Malik aimed a deadpan stare that contradicted his comment but Altaïr waved him away because his day had turned lousy and he wasn't eager to divulge his feelings. He opened the cork of the canteen to take a sip of the wine but spit it out a second later when he realized it was warm, coughing with disgust, "That was atrocious. . .just. . ._ugh!_"

Malik and Vivian hid a snicker to his apparent displeasure as he cast aside the canteen to make sure nobody tasted its contents during the night. Altaïr returned to poking the fire to occupy himself and Malik offered another piece of advice, "You cannot change your current location or the birth of your child but you can make sure you fight your best on this journey to see them when you arrive at Masyaf."

"And if she leaves with the child?" he put forth hesitantly since that was one of his major worries, along with their safety, since learning of the news.

Vivian's brain was full of ideas after playing too many video games and she suggested helpfully, "Use your assassins to track her down, send Rafiki to scope her out, see if the POE can help, put wanted posters for a 'mother lost abroad' throughout every country from China to England but make sure they get her nose right-"

Altaïr raised his right hand to stop her many choices as the words condensed into babel in his head and cut in, "How do you conjure these ideas? I should ban your outlandish thoughts from our discussions . . . but I won't."

He hated the naïvely sweet puppy worthy expression on her face as it managed to penetrate through his defenses. She was slowly worming her way in with selfless kindness he hadn't experienced (even Malik had his limits due to Altaïr's stubborn attitude) and he wasn't reluctant to reject it after knowing arrogance had been one of his traits during his fall from master rank. Despite the irate emotional leakage from his part, Vivian held her own against him when they argued and still believed in the best of him- a compassionate trait that he reluctantly admired. There was strength in the time traveler despite her odd quirks and he would take each day at time to learn more about her since Malik could already do no wrong in her eyes.

"If Madagascar doesn't work out, not that I'm hoping for that, I can babysit" she piped up helpfully to lift his mood and Malik chuckled to the image of her carrying a fussy child with multiple bags of baby items in tow. Altaïr fought the urge to wince since Vivian's fast-footed pace would have him worrying that she could drop a baby in her walking haste. Vivian was undeterred about her offer to be Altaïr Jr.'s pack mule and raised her index finger into the air to declare proudly, "I can tell you right now that I have five years of childcare experience and I've fixed enough boo-boo's to earn a master's badge of boo-boo mending."

"What in the world is a boo-boo?" the assassin questioned with bewilderment to her futuristic babble and felt the slightest twinge at the base of his skull telling him a headache would form soon. Malik had to agree with his friend as the word was entirely lost to him as well, the translation lost to the wind.

Vivian merely smiled brightly to easily inform the two about her jargon, "Bumps and bruises, of course. I'm not Mary Poppins with her spoonful of sugar but you can trust me to handle a baby- even the drooling and throw up is cute."

"I don't know half of you said but you're hired for my firstborn" Malik laughed to her enthusiasm about childcare since most people in their time would complain about poop and whether they'd last through any illnesses. Nursemaids were rare in Masyaf due to their isolation apart from society as Al Mualim had separated the children from their parents. Altaïr, however, was mulling the idea of training their female informants or trusted wives of assassins in midwifery and nursing for the future care of children born into the order. Mortalities for children were common due to the archaic medical care in comparison to Vivian's (he was still surprised by some tools and medicines they used) and mothers could also perish during childbirth or after due to infection or a difficult birth.

"Oh heavens, I'm going to be a father" Altaïr sighed miserably to the sudden vice grip in his stomach as Vivian's perkiness contradicted with his internal feelings and they wanted her far away due to their infectiousness. He fetched the canteen he'd dropped on the floor, briefly forgetting why he chucked it in the first place, and popped it open to drink his woes away. Malik and Vivian merely watched him gag again with revulsion to the warm liquid and this time, he launched it into the forest to make sure he didn't make a third mistake. He wiped the left side of his lips to be rid of the terrible taste and coughed hoarsely in exclamation, "_Why_ did I drink that again?!"

For the first time, Vivian offered sympathetic physical comfort by opening her arms and smiled warmly, "I also give 'super happy' hugs or so my little sister says. I can dub them as 'assassin power' hugs for you?"

"Members of opposite genders cannot embrace unless they are family or married" Malik informed casually as he felt the tense air from earlier dissipate completely by Altaïr's wine complication and Vivian's free babysitting service. Never in his years did he imagine he'd be sharing this kind of conversation- while sober, anyway. Altaïr nodded in agreement to the social laws of their culture, especially since he was a man that had a private personal space big enough to fit a tent.

She blinked to the startling news and scratched the top of her head to slowly ask, "Wait, is that why you all stared at me when I hugged Malik in Giza?"

Both men nodded once in perfect unison and she frowned with embarrassment to that social snafu, sighing softly with lament, "Oh, Vivian, you're going to dig yourself into a figurative ditch one day."

Her shoulders rose the next second as she perked up immediately and pondered aloud, "Ah well, at least I talked my way out of that by making up a country. . .which I shall call. . .Hogwarts."

She shook her head quickly to find a more original name but Altaïr could care less as she rambled, "No wait, Coruscant. . .Gondor. . .Palaven. . .ooh, Urdnot. . .Awesomeland-"

"I don't think Coruscant-Gondor-Palaven-ooh, Urdnot-Awesomeland will be remembered by many and my short-term memory is already pushing it" Altaïr commented flatly as he tried to keep a straight face to the ridiculous names. Malik's less stony demeanor allowed him to do the laughing for him as the absurd name was quite comical in itself. Vivian's shoulders sunk from her seat since the names alone sounded cooler in her head (each separate, of course) but they were a train wreck altogether. She joined Malik's laughter over the awful names when Altaïr stated his own version for the pick, "Badger Land. A country where the European badger reigns supreme on their flag."

An idea popped into her head as she sat in front of the fire and it wasn't the longing to find the archaic version of marshmallows in the 1190s. She rubbed her hands mischievously as she proclaimed her anthem would be called 'funkytown' and began a song that was old but always made her tickle with laughter:

"_A town to keep me movin', keep me groovin' with some energy  
Well, I talk about it, talk about it, talk about it, talk about it  
Well, I talk about, talk about, talk about movin'  
Gotta move on, gotta move on, gotta move on  
From Ba-a-a-dger Land_

_Won't you take me to funkytown?  
Won't you take me to funkytown?  
Won't you take me to funkytown?  
Won't-"_

"No, I will _not_ take you to 'Funkytown'!" Altaïr interrupted her awful banshee's song to preserve his hearing and she grinned to hearing his accent with the song's title. She could understand most of the words he spoke without a problem but when it came to jargon or fused words from her time, his distinct enunciation mixed into the translation. He rolled his shoulders back to shake away the horror of the previous minute because his day was already bad without her singing and stated firmly, "Now, head inside and go to bed like a good citizen of Badger Land."

"The sky just turned dark and I'm good now. . .mostly" she protested with a pout because she hadn't spent the recent nights outside like she usually did. The self-imposed solitary confinement at night had become excruciatingly annoying and she missed socializing with her friends. She actually felt quite fine to take on her first night shift that week to resume her watchwoman duties but Altaïr's stern glare was nonnegotiable. Boy, that child of his would be petrified by age two and immune by age fifteen. She looked to Malik for input on their argument but the dai shook his head, silently telling her to let it go for their friend's sake.

"You pushed it by allowing me to bring you into the settlement and- you're leaving without arguing?" Altaïr began to count off his reasons but faltered when Vivian stood up to head in for the night by following Malik's advice. The dai knew how to make peace as he found the easiest compromises before any damage was done and he was right about handing Altaïr the win that day. Unlike the assassin that fought tooth and nail with most of his choices when an argument arose, Vivian listened with an open mind to keep their everyday atmosphere clear of any tension.

She patted Altaïr's right shoulder on the way to her tent but left her touch brief and light to avoid bringing discomfort to the proximity, stating quietly, "Call it a compromise but thank you for allowing me to travel today."

He didn't know which was worse; that he felt disappointed that he wouldn't get to have a meaningless argument or that he actually _wanted_ one. Vivian was adapting to their way of life quite well as she kept herself physically distant and respectful of his privacy. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for him as he constantly kept an eye on her to make sure she wouldn't wander off into a crowd and never return. He rested his left cheek in his hand as he leaned forward with his elbows on his legs and grumbled lowly with a lethargic voice, "She baffles me sometimes. . .and I find it disheartening that I savor that moment."

"Altaïr, you're quite baffling yourself and I've known you for over a decade" Malik chuckled softly to show his friend that it was entirely normal since friendships shed a warmer light to a person's personality over time. There were times during his youth when Malik wanted to stuff his ears with linen wrappings to prevent hearing Altaïr's angry rambles or his way of how things should be done. The fact that Altaïr met his match on a philosophical level meant the two would be repelling and attracting each other's opinions on certain matters. Not to mention, their complementary personalities meant they would butt heads once in a while but they would bring out each other's best traits. Malik's charismatic personality would thankfully balance the two out as he listened thoroughly and could turn a deaf ear when he had enough of their rabble.

As a prime example, he let it slide when Altaïr's boot scuffed the dirt and the assassin muttered in rebuttal, "I hope you get twins someday."

Malik hoped Altaïr's child would get its mother's personality.

* * *

**A/N**: I regret seeing the end of AC 3 now due to character death (horribly reminding me of Mass Effect 3) but learned a bunch of info about the beings that came before, which has given me ideas for the sequel. At least Altaïr popped in for a final time in the start. . .now I'm nostalgic. . .and guilty for finding Connor highly attractive (almost tying with Altaïr and he's my number one). _Why_ did Ubisoft choose a background that I'm oddly highly attracted to? Lol. Thankfully, Vivian will only have eyes for the Arabic man with the glare of doom when she finally returns to find what's happened in the real modern world.

With that said, we see poor Altaïr's reaction to the baby news as he adapts to being a new father and the group will keep traveling south in the next chapter as he fiddles with the items. As for Vivian, the girl is perfectly back to normal now and I have admiration for her as a person because I dealt with horrible monthly cramps just a few days ago. The fact that I had a presentation due for class allowed me to summon my courage and volunteer to go second after my friend because if Vivian could bear that, what would a ten minute presentation do to lil' old me? Now I can sit back lazily and play AC 3 until presentations are over on the 21st.

Thank you for the new alerts on this story and my quiet readers on the web, I love you guys! Technology is so awesome as it allows people from all over the globe to share a single story.

_Glowfrog_: In order for Vivian to match us regular folk, the poor girl had to endure that unfavorable physiological event. Altaïr was endearingly hilarious since he's never had direct contact with anyone who divulged that information and tried his best to cope with that situation. I'm certain if it had been Ezio, the charming Casanova would've played it off and joked about limitless fertility. It's a shame I couldn't write a story about him and Vivian traveling around Europe but having a completely platonic relationship. Thank you for loving my tale!

_ShizukaRen_-Hime: Wow, I didn't think the isolation would still be in use but there are parts of the world that stick to old traditions or contain their own indigenous culture. Thanks so much for informing me about that. Altaïr isn't chatty about anything, especially women's monthlies, so it was sweet of him to bring her food when he normally wouldn't. I like to think he expresses his compassion through actions rather than being verbally expressive. Depending on the length of the next chapter, we'll see Altaïr allow Vivian a taste of Egyptian history as they travel to the Valley of the Kings in either that chapter or the next.

_KrnYong_: I have very painful cramps, which affect my ability to walk and my asthma so I take Aleve 500mg since it helps my sensitive joints as well. Unlike poor Vivian, I'm knocked out without sleeping aids due to exhaustion. I'd like to think the heat, exhaustion, and pain bring Vivian's hilarious rambles. That's the only chapter about that that I have on the story but I'd be open to writing another down the line in their travels to bring another reprise of Altaïr's fear. Altaïr is a good chameleon in adapting into uncertain situations but yes, he is nice to help Vivian- even when she threatens harm to his manly parts. Lol.

_ MrsTrafflagar law_: Thank you for loving each chapter, I appreciate it!

_Tulippen_: Thanks, Vivian is a perky optimistic woman like many of us but she has her humorous faults. It drives Altaïr insane and brings brotherly doting from Malik to further bond the three as she finds her way in the old world. I really do find myself loving her character out of all that I've created in my stories as she carries humorous innocence. Her social awkwardness from the modern world and historical intellect make her fit into Altaïr's journey as she learns to grow from him and Malik.

_xVentressx_: Oh, I should use that joke to rile Altaïr since Vivian uses the most inappropriate words around him to ruffle his feathers. I actually like Malik being her teacher since there are stories with Altaïr training an OC and he falls madly in love with her and want to avoid that with Vivian. I liked the way Ezio and Sofia traded their knowledge so she could point him in the right direction and want a mutual relationship between Altaïr and Vivian where they both reap equal rewards in it.

_PuellaGrata_: Don't worry, I understood you clearly and thanks for loving my story. If not, I have no problem putting a review through Google's translator for help (I love it for translations). I wanted to steer clear of the usual OC repeating AC1 alongside Altaïr since I've never been one to follow what's already been written but branch off from it, which is why I decided to give him a new adventure. I also liked Malik and Maria but hated the way they were handled in Revelations (Malik never popped up again!) so I'm heading elsewhere with them. I'd rather have Malik die valiantly and Maria be the warrior woman she is. Vivian really does deserve chocolate and she definitely misses it as she tries to find sweets in candy. The review didn't give me the link you sent, just parts, and wondered if you could PM it to me or write it out with spaces in between the words. FFnet is very strict with their links sometimes.

* * *

**Next Time**: _The Trying Adventure of Altaïr  
_

"How much longer do you think it will be?" Altaïr asked Vivian since she was his source of information and had begun asking for her input through their travels. They had been rowing up the river for more than five weeks as they traveled to restock and find camp at the temple of Philae that was located at southern Egypt. It was their beacon to guide them south into Sudan and they would feel safer at an abandoned temple on an island than the open desert. The land was arid with sparse trees once they left the rich soil deposits of the shore that allowed the land to flourish bountifully.

"I don't know, Altaïr, it's an island so we can't miss it on the main river" she answered uncertainly since her major was history, not geography, and stopped her sketch. The land was over a thousand years old and the terrain would've changed over time since the temple had to be moved elsewhere for preservation. Whatever lump of large land they found in the middle of the gargantuan river, she would call it since they were nearing the location. She gazed at the horizon to the south in case she spotted something that he hadn't and informed quickly, "It's changed in my time due to corrosion but we can't miss it in this era. Do you still remember the map?"

"I don't have the memory of a child, Vivian" he stated dryly but relented with a nod nonetheless towards his belongings so she could fetch his book of maps. He wasn't impervious to mistakes and it would be arrogant of him to believe so. . .but hoped she wouldn't ruin his organized packs. He allowed another to peruse through his items despite his strictness on privacy and told her, "It's in one of my packs."

Malik groaned to the man's artistic abilities since Altaïr preferred his own hand drawn copy of maps so he could add in notes and sighed, "You heard him. Keep an eye out for a page with a deformed landscape that resembles a brown circle then."

"Not all of us have an artist's fingers, Malik" Altaïr retorted sardonically since his sketching did indeed need a hand in improving but nobody had actually offered to help. There was no question to who had the best artistic hand in the group but he took solace in Vivian's compliment that his penmanship was the most elegant.

Looking to Vivian as she sat behind him, he stopped rowing to see her digging into his pack with her right hand and sighed under his breath when she waved to him with the left. Truly, he questioned the logic behind bringing the perky historian into his time. She fished out two books but instead of perusing through them, raised each so he could see the covers to maintain his privacy within each intact. He shook his head to reject both, silently thankful that she hadn't decided to read his writings but part of him already knew she wouldn't be nosy. If anything, he was the nosy one out of both and laughed when she exclaimed shrilly, "Ew, there's something gooey in there! My limit is crunchy and coarse but I draw the line at gooey and pointy."

"Oh, that's a cheese I bought" he answered simply while coughing back a laugh to her frightened voice and features. Did she really think he carried dangerous gooey items? She dug further into his bag past the strange lumpy objects and found another book, pulling out a red text and smiled at reading the words 'Maps of the World'. She popped it open to find it full of masterful drawings of current countries and kingdoms that weren't from his hands. Piping up she had it, she closed his bag after fixing everything neatly and returned to her seat to resume her sketching. It was best they had the book on hand rather than fetching it at the last minute.

Altaïr looked to her quiet sketching to see if he could lift his bruised ego from its hole by critiquing hers since she never held anything against him (well, most of the time). His left eyebrow rose when he spotted sketches on the page adjacent to her drawing of the landscape and noticed human figures in various poses. One pictured a man similar to him in appearance wearing strange black armor as he held a weapon of sorts, another- Malik?- was in brown robes as he held a glowing sword of sort, another was in assassin garb while holding a beer with a grin that oddly resembled his if he actually smiled, and others. Hmm. This poked his curiosity as he rowed the boat upstream, ripping his gaze away from the river once more to look past his right shoulder and asked casually, "What are you drawing?"

She flinched sheepishly as she'd been engrossed with drawing and pleasantly surprised he actually showed an interest in her scribbling. Usually, he told her to stop that awful charcoal scratching but could see genuine interest in his gaze. She was always eager to gain a brownie point with the awesome assassin and showed him her bundle of caricatures. Her voice hitched in volume since she didn't display her drawings to anyone besides her sister and rambled quickly with a wide smile, "That's Desmond as Commander Shepard, Malik as a Jedi, your descendant Ezio enjoying a beer, Rebecca breaking a vase over Shaun's head, Leonardo wearing a nice Versace suit, and Lucy dissecting a sandwich. Oh, and an elf named Zevran."

Altaïr had absolutely no idea who those people were in the slightest sense as she smiled brightly to her quick sketches and he regretted asking almost immediately. He felt inclined to increase his comfort level with Vivian due to her special circumstance but sometimes, his mind suffered in attempting to understand hers. It wasn't hard to lose interest in the conversation and flatly asked with a deadpan expression, "You drew people I don't know? Where am _I_?"

She pointed to a familiar man wearing strange clothes on a wooden bench and answered cheerfully, "You're feeding ducks. I would've drawn you with water wings but you don't know what they are."

"_I_ don't know what a Jedi is" Malik spoke up as he looked away from his book for a moment to add in his two cents and hoped it wasn't anything bad. Despite that, he liked the sketch in his name as it held a distinct human physique while Altaïr's hand would've . . . catastrophic would be the best word to describe it. Malik took pride in having an advantage in that skill and that was while lacking his left hand to keep a paper in place and sharpening his tools without it.

"They're awesome futuristic warriors who keep international peace and have powers" she explained easily with a big silly grin that told him to take pride in her little sketch since Vivian admired the two as mentors. Malik had no issue encouraging her talents or hobbies since her written Arabic was slowly coming together as a new language took time to master. As for her defense training, she was practicing the basic fundamentals to grasp the concepts perfectly since her petite height could make it difficult to take down taller people. How did Malik know this, you ask? When Altaïr had tossed her aside like a child's doll without even trying to steal a hot pastry she'd warmed over the fire. Malik realized that oddly enough, the key to releasing her potential was increasing her irritancy over having Altaïr steal or ruin her things. He would have him steal another item of food, like he usually did, from the passive woman to continue the same cycle.

"Oh" he uttered with a pleased tone since it was rather nice to be painted in a heroic light but Altaïr's eyes narrowed since all he received was a sketch about ducks. _Ducks!_ Who would want ducks in a picture with them? Where was the strong eagle icon she yapped on about since her arrival? Or a fox? A leopard? Anything with sharp fangs or claws!

He kept a straight face as he restrained his annoyance over the yellow creatures and asked with a low stiff voice, "Why did you give me ducks?"

She wiggled her charcoal piece in the air with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes since she'd chosen the fluffy animals to contradict his indifferent personality. It was a moment like this as she eyed his frowning face with mirth that she laughed mentally at the analogy of being the Leslie Knope to his Ron Swanson- man, she missed that show. Gazing down at her sketch book, she finally allowed the cheeky smile to surface and offered nonchalantly, "I could draw you with Mr. Ping, the goose. He has a very nice noodle shop and everyone loves noodles. Or a melancholy donkey named Eeyore, he's pretty cute. Or a magical yellow dog called Jake-"

"Enough, each option is more ridiculous than the last" he silenced her ramblings as they confused him and regretted asking in the first place altogether. It was bad enough that her hand was better at drawing than his and she'd picked the smallest fluffiest animal. . .well, baby ducks weren't so bad. It was a lame attempt at drawing him in a normal but strange futuristic setting and returned to rowing their boat upstream.

* * *

_Thank you for reading as always and please drop a review cookie for Vivian to chew on (but most likely, Altaïr will eat it)._


	26. The Trying Adventures Of Altair

**The Trying Adventures of Altaïr**

* * *

"_Who's the greatest assassin ever?  
A hero of renown  
Who slayed an evil Templar?  
Who cast De Sable down?  
Altaïr!_

_And that time the vile Templar_  
_Captured a damsel fair_  
_He, who saved Maria with such bravery,_  
_She offered him a love affair?_  
_Altaïr!_  
_Also, he fought a crocodile!_  
_Altaïr-r-r-r!"_

Malik stared at Altaïr's back as the assassin rowed calmly without uttering an insult or reprimand to Vivian's off-key singing, surprised he wasn't scowling for half of the lyrics. Vivian finished her tune as she rowed at the back of the canoe and hummed the 'Billy song' she'd parodied. There was an infinite amount of songs she could use to describe the badass assassin and this was one good example. Unlike Altaïr that hissed irately at her singing, he didn't mind her artistic flair and the dai asked slowly, "You're not telling her to be quiet?"

Vivian scratched a random itchy (boy, were they itchy) mosquito bite on her left arm but her ears were wide open with curiosity to his reply. Her skills might not be awe worthy in any form but she was always eager to hear a compliment thrown her way to reassure she wasn't a lost case. It would be shameful to be deemed unworthy of anything by the awesome assassin (whose cutout she'd bought out of extreme loyalty) and she heard Altaïr reply, "It's an uphill battle . . . and I don't mind hearing about my greatness."

"Another mad grand master with egotistical tendencies?" Malik joked to the man's pride and shook his head with a smile, lowering the medical book he'd been reading for the moment. The volume rose when he saw Altaïr raise one of his paddles but the assassin realized he couldn't prod Malik in the same fashion as he could with Vivian. Lacking an arm or not, his friend would drop him into the water and he returned to rowing. Vivian found the scene amusing as the two shared brotherly quips and Malik feigned a sad sigh as he returned to his book, "What has our brotherhood come to?"

The atmosphere between the trio, especially Altaïr and Vivian, had been dispersed of all negative tension as they realized they were stuck together for the following year and no wagon was going to give them a ride back home. Altaïr had constantly written back home to check on the order and the condition of Maria but she'd stated that everything was fine as she'd take care of everything on her end. He was glad for this since she was quite independent but a little irritated because he wanted to be a part of the pregnancy somehow to begin forming the father-child bond. He really did want to hear about his upcoming child but the task of completing the journey took priority, forcing him to stick to his trip outline and shed any remorse for having to continue onwards. The child would still have Maria and the order would protect them from harm for as long as he stayed alive. Regarding their status now that they would share a child involved, Altaïr was unsure of it all. He'd trained endlessly for about a week on the road to pent out his anxiety over it all because he never expected fatherhood to reach him just yet. Yes, he was in the prime of his life when most men were married and had those crying tykes running around but he wasn't quite ready. Every time he'd see children in his travel, he couldn't help but think of his and what life awaited him when he did return. He would be a part of the child's life, unless it truly became hazardous, but what of Maria? How did he fit into her life? She'd made her desires pretty clear the last time they'd met and he'd left to lick his wounds but what about now? Would she consider marrying him for the sake of the child? Would _he_?

As for Malik, he was a child born within the order and estranged from his parents as every child under Al Mualim had been placed. However, he found his family with the two as they spent their time together and cherished their moments of camaraderie. He might not have Kadar anymore but he had Altaïr back as his brother and the time traveler as a sister of sorts; they were the most unorthodox group in history. Unlike the grand master that needed haggling to get him to do something, Vivian soaked up his knowledge and advice like a sponge with bright eyes fit for a child. As for the quirky Vivian, she had to forget the notion of seeing her beloved family again after hearing Isis' words and the two men were fast becoming her adoptive family over the months. Yep, she was two months and a week into her travels since setting out from Masyaf on that fateful humid morning where she was almost pooped on by Altaïr's horse.

Vivian smiled cheerfully as she wrote the land's details in her book, using pieces of charcoal to sketch points of interest as her nature to jot down history took hold during travel. She also used her free time to practice deciphering the alphabet to grasp their grammar to write clear concise sentences that wouldn't resemble scribbles. Malik was an incredible help in camp as she translated notes to improve her language skills while Altaïr only wrote in his codex and carried no books to read. Due to that, he was initially reluctant to hear about Vivian's fictional tales at night during their campfire until he realized that they weren't too bad- if kept to a minimum throughout their travel.

An assassin's life wasn't a happy one as they placed duty above all else and danger would always follow. Altaïr's taste of betrayal, Ezio's family loss, and Desmond's imprisonment were prime examples of how life would be for anyone in the Order. Although she didn't know the ending of their lives at the current moment, the scars of their life experiences echoed throughout time. After seeing all of that, the appeal to be an assassin wasn't that great as she originally believed and she was glad she'd never have an opportunity to dare it. Since her life would be tied to theirs for a short time (she couldn't imagine being stranded in time forever), she was certain she'd carry her own by the end. Nonetheless, she would try her best to give them some sense of happiness that didn't involve saving the world. Who would want to be on assassin watch 24/7?. . . Well, maybe Altaïr.

"How much longer do you think it will be?" Altaïr asked Vivian since she was his source of information and had begun asking for her input through their travels. They had been rowing up the river for more than five weeks as they traveled to restock and find camp at the temple of Philae that was located at southern Egypt. It was their beacon to guide them south into Sudan and they would feel safer at an abandoned temple on an island than the open desert. The land was arid with sparse trees once they left the rich soil deposits of the shore that allowed the land to flourish bountifully.

"I don't know, Altaïr, it's an island so we can't miss it on the main river" she answered uncertainly since her major was history, not geography, and stopped her sketch. The land was over a thousand years old and the terrain would've changed over time since the temple had to be moved elsewhere for preservation. Whatever lump of large land they found in the middle of the gargantuan river, she would call it since they were nearing the location. She gazed at the horizon to the south in case she spotted something that he hadn't and informed quickly, "It's changed in my time due to corrosion but we can't miss it in this era. Do you still remember the map?"

"I don't have the memory of a child, Vivian" he stated dryly but relented with a nod nonetheless towards his belongings so she could fetch his book of maps. He wasn't impervious to mistakes and it would be arrogant of him to believe so. . .but hoped she wouldn't ruin his organized packs. He allowed another to peruse through his items despite his strictness on privacy and told her, "It's in one of my packs."

Malik groaned to the man's artistic abilities since Altaïr preferred his own hand drawn copy of maps so he could add in notes and sighed, "You heard him. Keep an eye out for a page with a deformed landscape that resembles a brown circle then."

"Not all of us have an artist's fingers, Malik" Altaïr retorted sardonically since his sketching did indeed need a hand in improving but nobody had actually offered to help. There was no question to who had the best artistic hand in the group but he took solace in Vivian's compliment that his penmanship was the most elegant.

Looking to Vivian as she sat behind him, he stopped rowing to see her digging into his pack with her right hand and sighed under his breath when she waved to him with the left. Truly, he questioned the logic behind bringing the perky historian into his time. She fished out two books but instead of perusing through them, raised each so he could see the covers to maintain his privacy within each intact. He shook his head to reject both, silently thankful that she hadn't decided to read his writings but part of him already knew she wouldn't be nosy. If anything, he was the nosy one out of both and laughed when she exclaimed shrilly, "Ew, there's something gooey in there! My limit is crunchy and coarse but I draw the line at gooey and pointy."

"Oh, that's a cheese I bought" he answered simply while coughing back a laugh to her frightened voice and features. Did she really think he carried dangerous gooey items? When he saw the curious glint in her eyes, he remembered her favorite food and quickly chastised, "Don't even think about eating it."

She dug further into his bag past the strange lumpy objects and found another book, pulling out a red text and smiled at reading the words 'Maps of the World'. She popped it open to find it full of masterful drawings of current countries and kingdoms that weren't from his hands. Piping up she had it, she closed his bag after fixing everything neatly and returned to her seat to resume her sketching. It was best they had the book on hand rather than fetching it at the last minute.

Altaïr looked to her quiet sketching to see if he could lift his bruised ego from its hole by critiquing hers since she never held anything against him (well, most of the time). His left eyebrow rose when he spotted sketches on the page adjacent to her drawing of the landscape and noticed human figures in various poses. One pictured a man similar to him in appearance wearing strange black armor as he held a weapon of sorts, another- Malik?- was in brown robes as he held a glowing sword of sort, another was in assassin garb while holding a beer with a grin that oddly resembled his if he actually smiled, and others. Hmm. This poked his curiosity as he rowed the boat upstream, ripping his gaze away from the river once more to look past his right shoulder and asked casually, "What are you drawing?"

She flinched sheepishly as she'd been engrossed with drawing and pleasantly surprised he actually showed an interest in her scribbling. Usually, he told her to stop that awful charcoal scratching but could see genuine interest in his gaze. She was always eager to gain a brownie point with the awesome assassin and showed him her bundle of caricatures. Her voice hitched in volume since she didn't display her drawings to anyone besides her sister and rambled quickly with a wide smile, "That's Desmond as Commander Shepard, Malik as a Jedi, your descendant Ezio enjoying a beer, Rebecca breaking a vase over Shaun's head, Leonardo wearing a nice Versace suit, and Lucy dissecting a sandwich. Oh, and an elf named Zevran."

Altaïr had absolutely no idea who those people were in the slightest sense as she smiled brightly to her quick sketches and he regretted asking almost immediately. He felt inclined to increase his comfort level with Vivian due to her special circumstance but sometimes, his mind suffered in attempting to understand hers. It wasn't hard to lose interest in the conversation and flatly asked with a deadpan expression, "You drew people I don't know? Where am _I_?"

She pointed to a familiar man wearing strange clothes on a wooden bench and answered cheerfully, "You're feeding ducks. I would've drawn you with water wings but you don't know what they are."

"_I_ don't know what a Jedi is" Malik spoke up as he looked away from his book for a moment to add in his two cents and hoped it wasn't anything bad. Despite that, he liked the sketch in his name as it held a distinct human physique while Altaïr's hand would've . . . catastrophic would be the best word to describe it. Malik took pride in having an advantage in that skill and that was while lacking his left hand to keep a paper in place and sharpening his tools without it.

"They're awesome futuristic warriors who keep international peace and have powers" she explained easily with a big silly grin that told him to take pride in her little sketch since Vivian admired the two as mentors. Malik had no issue encouraging her talents or hobbies since her written Arabic was slowly coming together as a new language took time to master. As for her defense training, she was practicing the basic fundamentals to grasp the concepts perfectly since her petite height could make it difficult to take down taller people. How did Malik know this, you ask? When Altaïr had tossed her aside like a child's doll without even trying to steal a hot pastry she'd warmed over the fire. Malik realized that oddly enough, the key to releasing her potential was increasing her irritancy over having Altaïr steal or ruin her things. He would have him steal another item of food, like he usually did, from the passive woman to continue the same cycle.

"Oh" he uttered with a pleased tone since it was rather nice to be painted in a heroic light but Altaïr's eyes narrowed since all he received was a sketch about ducks. _Ducks!_ Who would want ducks in a picture with them? Where was the strong eagle icon she yapped on about since her arrival? Or a fox? A leopard? Anything with sharp fangs or claws!

He kept a straight face as he restrained his annoyance over the yellow creatures and asked with a low stiff voice, "Why did you give me ducks?"

She wiggled her charcoal piece in the air with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes since she'd chosen the fluffy animals to contradict his indifferent personality. It was a moment like this as she eyed his frowning face with mirth that she laughed mentally at the analogy of being the Leslie Knope to his Ron Swanson- man, she missed that show. Gazing down at her sketch book, she finally allowed the cheeky smile to surface and offered nonchalantly, "I could draw you with Mr. Ping, the goose. He has a very nice noodle shop and everyone loves noodles. Or a melancholy donkey named Eeyore, he's pretty cute. Or a magical yellow dog called Jake-"

"Enough, each option is more ridiculous than the last" he silenced her ramblings as they confused him and regretted asking in the first place altogether. It was bad enough that her hand was better at drawing than his and she'd picked the smallest fluffiest animal. . .well, baby ducks weren't so bad. It was a lame attempt at drawing him in a normal but strange futuristic setting and returned to rowing their boat upstream.

Vivian flipped through the pages of her book until she landed directly in the center, passing over fifteen pages of paper to choose that exact page for privacy purposes. Quietly, she began to outline the top of his famous hood with a careful hand and began to fill in the intricate embroidery that defined him as the watchful eagle of Syria.

She would silently sketch him in different angles throughout the months until she could make him her masterpiece in one single page.

* * *

Another day brought them sunny weather as they rowed against the current of the Nile and all three adventurers sighed with miserable disbelief to the hot day. When would they have to battle storms that brought deliciously cold rain? All Vivian could do was wear her hood and cover her hands to protect herself against sun damage but even the heat made it unbearable when she rowed to take over for Altaïr. Ugh, she didn't want to look like burnt leather by the end of this journey.

Altaïr reached into the river to grasp a handful of cold water and brought it to his lips as the liquid moisturized his dry skin. A pair of hands struck his before he could take his first sip and the tantalizing water fell on the floor of the canoe to leave a brown splotch in its wake. His brown eyes widened to his lost drink because it was mere water and grit his teeth furiously as he looked to the one who dared to question his own judgment. Vivian's green eyes narrowed to what he'd been ready to do, unafraid to stand up to him and admonished, "Are you insane?! You're about to put parasites inside you!"

"I'm dying of thirst, I think it's worth it!" he yelled back since the weather was scorching him inside his robes and tried to grab another hand full of water. She grabbed him by the arms to pull him back inside the canoe with all of the strength she could muster against the broad shouldered assassin. The two argued heatedly as he fought against her but she gained leverage when Malik joined the fray with his handy right arm. The assassin wriggled in their grip for a few seconds but the heat zapped away most of his conserved energy. Great, brought down by a short historian and a one-armed dai. He could see they wouldn't release him until he voiced his defeat and quietly stilled in their grip to drawl slowly, "Fine, I will abide to your words. Now, if you would _kindly_ release me. . ."

The two let him go as they believed his word but a split second later, he bolted for the water once more with the utmost desperation. The trio repeated the cycle all over again as they tugged at his arms to incapacitate him and he hollered angrily for his release. It was a miracle they didn't tip the boat over as they wrestled with the man but once they managed to subdue him on the floor, Malik sat on his back to add resistance to his struggle. Altaïr groaned painfully when Vivian sat down on his lower legs to prevent being kicked but she landed at an uncomfortable angle, causing him to curse at the two for being demeaned like that. Vivian held his legs down on the hardwood floor and offered hastily to cut off his angry ramblings, "Have my water, okay?!"

Five minutes later, Altaïr was nursing her canteen like an unruly toddler while she took on the chore of rowing at the front. Malik found himself pleasantly surprised to the strange role reversal as Altaïr sat in the back while Vivian pedaled with newfound strength that was usually Altaïr's. She'd raised the sleeves of her robes up to her biceps (she'd been hysterically giggly at first glance to the toned muscle) to keep the heat at bay and shook her head to mutter with disillusion, "Never did I think you'd be the first to lose it. You're the awesome Altaïr, proud and indomitable. . .but now you caved and shriveled like a frail flower."

"I believe you owe me a drink" Malik laughed with glee to his friend's tantrum over thirst and Vivian turned to him with curiosity to this unknown bet. Altaïr scowled with fury at being deemed as the loser (of anything) but water travel did horrible things to his demeanor that normally wouldn't happen. There were many reasons for the animosity between the assassin and the element of water but he kept a tight lid on half of them. Malik didn't mind sharing the innocent bet after an easy victory and explained the origins, "We made a bet at Masyaf before we left on who would have an erratic episode first. Coin would be a bonus if one began to hallucinate or ramble into madness that was curable."

Vivian stopped paddling for a moment, gazing over her shoulder with twinkling eyes to grin mischievously, "Well, he _did_ need to be restrained and his yelling probably scared away all the fish-"

"How _dare_ you conspire against me?" Altaïr spat indignantly as he shook Vivian's canteen like an old man would do when ordering kids to get off his land. Vivian chuckled to his dramatics since the sun affected him a little too much today but Malik paid him no mind. Vivian felt too insignificant not to pay attention to the man since he could break her in half without even trying but was confident enough to poke the dangerous bear due to Malik's presence. The dai held very good control of Altaïr's rage as a single word could instill pacification (especially when it concerned her) while her requests for cessation would go unheeded.

"You're drinking from my canteen, you desiccating camel" she justified swiftly and laughed with pride to her quick comeback, resuming her rowing while wagging her brows comically. Altaïr was not amused by her analogy in the slightest because he wanted to resemble a majestic animal and camels . . . well, they weren't on the top of his list.

Altaïr grumbled inaudibly to vent his stubborn annoyance because he didn't want to lose his coin (as meager as it was) but kept drinking from the canteen like a toddler. He wasn't comfortable being in the follower category of his group since he always felt inclined to lead in order to protect his team and ensure the success of a mission. Being in the back of the canoe reminded him of his first day on the Nile when he'd been forced to sleep the seasickness away and he didn't like then or now. It wasn't becoming of a leader and he nursed his scuffed pride by staying hydrated because the sooner he was better, the faster he could resume his role.

Vivian, on the other hand, had tasted her first sip of pride as she put on a figurative captain's hat to lead her team onwards with what little strength she could provide. Ha-ha, she could finally be the savvy Jack Sparrow of the 1190s! It was a rarity that she took the lead since Altaïr would always be her partner, always taking the lead oar, and hoped she wouldn't run over a hippo or tragically crash the boat on her way upstream. Like a good captain, she inquired about her leader's current condition, "Sure you'll be okay?"

"Let's just find food for a snack" he grumbled under his breath as he fought down nausea when a current rocked their boat slightly and he was ready to chastise Vivian's vigilance. The historian surprised him by handling the stubborn water by using one paddle to utilize her entire strength against the current to propel them forward. Being the backseat driver didn't fit him very well and he was constantly analyzing any mistakes in Vivian's form but maybe she'd learned a few handy tips watching him throughout their journey. He decided to avoid admitting that small flicker of satisfaction as a teacher and focused on the cause that stuck him in the accursed back end of the boat. He admitted to himself that he wasn't the smartest man around (Vivian begged to differ) and reluctantly muttered, "I don't see the problem with drinking water from a river."

"It's filled with tiny beings that can bring death within days" she pointed out with a shudder of disgust and fright to the invisible organisms that could wreak havoc in the human body. The lack of modern medicine doubled that terror since urinary infections and others that required strong antibiotics would be nonexistent for the next four centuries. It was times like this she was thankful for her mother's holistic remedies and her father's lectures about the history of medicine (she was the only one actually interested in the topic while Natalia ran off like a normal kid). The disparity between their centuries sometimes made it difficult for Vivian to be descriptive or find analogies but tried her best and explained cheerfully, "We have created medicines to eradicate most of these common ailments but new ones always arise. I might have a little boost of immunity from manufactured vaccines but oh man, when something manages to cling on. . ."

Her face wrinkled to resemble a prune in remembrance to the many desperate trips to the outhouse she'd taken when either food, drink, or the temperature didn't agree with her stomach. Modern day travelers to the past would fare a little easier but the archaic sanitation still got you; she could only imagine if the situation reversed and Altaïr was stuck elsewhere. He was extremely lucky that he hadn't felt what severe diarrhea was or an upset stomach where the poor organ wanted to claw its way out for relief. On the other hand, she really didn't want to put any kind of ghastly images in their minds with her as the victim (to avoid any awkward stares) and sheepishly finished, "Uh, it's not pretty."

Altaïr decided to poke his hand where it didn't belong and snorted sarcastically, "When have you ever been pretty?"

_Whack!_

Vivian reached into an open gap between Malik and the boat to land a wet strike to Altaïr's right shoulder with the paddle for his smart-mouthed jab. The man really had no suave or gentle charm towards the fairer ladies, did he? Malik didn't utter a single reprimand to either individual as he avoided their antics, relaxing against the side of the boat to blissfully ignore them. He did, however, bat the paddle in an- ahem- _accidental_ twitch of his arm to raise it upwards and it swatted Altaïr in the face. This was one role reversal that Altaïr was definitely _not_ fond of and wanted the title of leader back in his hands so Vivian could return to being his whack-a-mole.

* * *

Altaïr didn't waste time for the canoe to dock on the riverbank before he jumped out to meet the land, falling to his knees with an exuberant _laugh_ that caught the two off guard completely. They had never heard such a jovial sound in their lives from the man (especially Malik) as he broke his stern façade entirely by actually displaying cheerful emotion. Vivian could only compare it to his inward reaction one day when he'd hear that Templar HQ had been blown up into tiny atoms. Their smiles faltered slightly when he dragged himself onto shore and declared madly, "Land! Safe, secure, and immobile land!"

His fingers dug into the wet dirt of the shore to leave deep imprints and Vivian's eyes widened while Malik's mouth popped open when they saw the assassin literally _kiss_ the ground with his lips. Both of them grimaced when his hands dug into the dirt to hug it close like an old lover and Vivian coughed awkwardly to state aloud, "Okay, we're going to leave you alone to make sweet love to the land now."

Her words broke the siren's spell of the land over Altaïr and the assassin regained his impassive mask as the figurative glass shattered back into reality. He stood up to clear his throat awkwardly for the emotional outburst and wiped off flecks of dirt from his robes to pull attention away from his unfavorable behavior. The movement brought back a wave of nausea and Vivian grabbed hold of his right arm to steady his balance as she led him towards a log that could be used as a bench. Malik had no problem pulling the canoe onto shore for the day and she helped the assassin sit down while offering helpfully, "Take deep breaths and I'll bring you some water."

"I'll be fine-" he objected shrewdly since being coddled over or helped was not in his personality as he valued his independence highly. Whether he was seasick or nor, he would not let it defeat him.

"Can't hear you, la la la" Vivian interjected loudly to deafen his protests because she was lending a hand whether he liked it or not. He'd been kind to her during her worst monthlies as he quietly brought her food or carried her packs so she wouldn't strain herself; a chivalrous act that she'd return. Altaïr didn't have the strength to yank her back when she quickly jogged down the riverbank to retrieve her pack for her canteen of water and other items. He'd never been one to accept help easily and wondered why Vivian kept trying despite his many attempts to dissuade her. The woman was either incredibly stubborn or selflessly kind to disobey a man that could break her neck without even trying.

Dipping her hand into a bowl of water, she soaked a folded cloth until it was thoroughly wet. Removing it, she squeezed out the excess liquid onto the loose dirt to moisten the parched dust and walked back to Altaïr to press it against his hot forehead. The assassin had thrown reservation aside to lie on the log for relief and his eyes snapped open to the cooling liquid on his skin. Vivian smiled kindly to assure him she only brought aid to his parched flesh and dabbed his forehead gently, "It'll help cool you down."

He wasn't one to throw out gratuity very often since he enjoyed being independent and self-sufficient but spoke quietly, "Thank you."

"No problem, you helped me when I wasn't at my best" she dismissed easily with her chirpy tone since she was there to help the duo in any way she could. After all, they were helping her find answers for the way home and stay alive in the turbulent world. She dipped the cloth back into the cold water to wring it, glancing back to shore to see Malik lugging around two packs in one hand. Quickly, she called out to leave hers inside to prevent the poor man from falling over but he was undeterred. Altaïr decided that his help as leader was required but she pushed him back down onto the log (surprised by its easiness this time) and pressed the cloth against his forehead. He scowled for being deemed unfit to work with the simplest of jobs and she suggested firmly, "Lie down for a few minutes and let us handle this. It will help your ears do away with the motion sickness and rest your eyes too."

"Besides, I can handle this" Malik insisted with a slight frown since he wasn't an invalid and refused to let his lack of an arm keep him from performing everyday duties. Altaïr shook his head because the man had yet to carry any of Vivian's packs and heard Malik's surprised yelp when he finally picked one up. Well, he couldn't say he didn't warn him and watched the tip of her ears redden since she was a notorious pack rat. She'd been tempted to start a rock collection but he'd chucked the only rocks she'd gathered into the river because he preferred living to drowning. The dai placed Vivian's second pack on a dry area of the riverbank and sighed tiredly to its weight, "Or maybe not."

"You want me to relax on a log?" he asked Vivian skeptically since it wasn't a particular spot to take a nap and didn't want to swat mosquitoes. Those little blood suckers tended to love feasting on his blood and the bites were notoriously itchy. Still, he wouldn't complain about the cool compress on his head and the nice shade that was dulling the horrible nausea in his belly. Ugh, he'd never felt so disgusting and low in his life (at least returning to his master rank had brought insight).

"I don't exactly have a carpet to roll out for his highness" she teased dryly as he lay on his side like a lazy cat, using his hands to steady himself over the log. Even while dry heaving and suffering dehydration, the man was formidable in strength as he kept himself rooted to the log. Meanwhile, she was hoping that it didn't have ants crawling around it and decided to keep mum about that to benefit Altaïr. As long as they didn't bite, they were good. She restrained from removing his hood since air circulation would be better but she was rather fond of having hands. The compress was already breaching his space and she spoke gently to calm his punctual itinerary, "We have to rest anyway so take a nap and lower your hood to breathe easier."

"And let the mosquitoes feast on my blood?" he muttered darkly to the little buggers that he swatted on a daily basis around shallow water. Mosquitoes were never a large bother in his homeland, only during nighttime, but they used netting around the beds to prevent any bites. Obviously, they lacked that in their current tents and he'd failed in robbing Vivian of hers. The woman had been smart in customizing her own and stitching it into the entrance flaps so he'd be on the lookout for the fabric. Vivian exhaled through her nose to how childish he could be when ill and could only wonder the severity of his antics when he was truly stricken with something like the common cold. She placed the bowl of water on the ground and focused on pressing the compress against the sides of his face to cool his skin. He wasn't fond of being cared for and struggled with accepting aid once more, mumbling flatly, "Leave me, future wench."

She shook her head as she struggled not to laugh at his fussy demeanor and stood up to leave to give him privacy. It was best to adhere to his wishes than unleash his wrath by refusing his request and respect was a two-way street with the man. His hand immediately grasped her wrist to stop her with an iron grip and his voice chastised quickly with demand, "Don't leave me!"

"It's hard when you're giving me contradicting orders" she chuckled with amusement to his fussy tone and sat next to him to keep him company. He handed over the wet cloth to motion that it needed fresh water and she dropped it into the bowl. Thankfully, he listened about the hood and lowered it to allow his face to breach the surface and met the breezy shade underneath the tree.

Malik, being the kind friend that he was, placed Altaïr's pack next to the log and smirked to tell Vivian, "This is why I never travel overseas with him."

The assassin barely had the strength to shake a fist as the dai left to continue lugging in their belongings. One-armed pushups came incredibly handy for toning his upper body after losing his arm and it prepared him to handle Vivian's next unbearably heavy pack. Vivian wrung the cloth again to press it once more against his face and pursed her lips to suggest aloud, "I'm going to ask a seamstress in the next city we dock at to make you lighter robes from the fabric rolls before you faint from dehydration and heatstroke. I'd do them myself but you've threatened to skin me alive if I go past the waist-"

A weird gurgling noise escaped his mouth to object to either of her comments and she sighed to nursing her man baby back to health. Leonardo got the better end of the descendants as she and Malik were dealt with a grumpy obstinate man that refused a helping hand. Where was _her_ assassin that would hand her a freebie flirt or offer to beat up someone that looked at her funny? Well, he did hand her a plate of food when she was ready to curl up and die from horrible cramps so that sufficed for a man like him. His voice snapped into her thoughts as he finally regained control of it and he swallowed to moisten his parched throat to state, "My robes aren't the problem- it is large bodies of water that will kill a man with its endless depth."

"Not to mention crushed by the pressure" she added in and his eyes shot open to the new fact, wishing the woman kept her mouth shut. There should've been a rule against telling him things that hindered or poked at his vulnerabilities. Her shoulders rose sheepishly as she caught the stunned look on his face and murmured quickly in apology, "Sorry."

"Vivian, if I admit something to you, will you promise not to laugh?" he asked slowly as he tested the waters of their trust but whatever he admitted, Malik would undoubtedly know. He shared most secrets with his brother and those that didn't include Vivian would be divulged later on to keep her in their circle of trust. It gave her a warm feeling in her tummy to be considered one of the guys whenever they shared supper tales and she'd turned into a regular bro for them. It was hard enough being a woman in the 12th century but her androgynous qualities in personality and behavior were accepted easily by the two.

She smiled knowingly with a small witty grin, her straight nose wrinkling slightly in amusement, and asked quietly, "You mean your obvious aquaphobia? I know."

"No, I . . . can't swim" he mumbled dejectedly about his most dreaded secret and waited for her to roll over the log in laughter. Most individuals near water knew how to swim naturally as they learned from others or themselves when it came to self-preservation but Altaïr never had the chance. Other assassins knew how to swim, even Malik in his current state, but he'd been too embarrassed to admit it. He didn't like having weaknesses but this one was proving bothersome over time in their current travel.

Instead, she tilted her head to the side in contemplation and remarked gently, "Oh . . . that's not surprising, considering you melted at the sight of water in my game."

He groaned miserably to his weakness since he'd faced water on several assassinations and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop his nausea. Why was he cursed with a natural fear of water? Couldn't he pass it on like the common cold to Vivian? The little badger was already afraid of most every day occurrences- especially insects and spiders. He wouldn't push it onto Malik because the dai would punch him into the next century. Admitting a point of weakness was a rarity and he frowned visibly to his greatest fear (aside from having his order annihilated) as he disclosed quietly, "It's not something I prefer to voice aloud but I never had the opportunity to learn, given my tendency to attract danger."

Vivian, of course, suggested the most horrible but helpful advice by asking cheerfully, "Want to learn?"

One eye opened lazily to determine whether she was serious because he wasn't giddy over drowning anytime soon- he was rather attached to life. Vivian was a good companion but he highly doubted her petite form could hold him above water for very long and he'd more than likely drown both of them. His eyes narrowed suspiciously in case she decided to pull a prank in the middle of open water if he accepted and hissed softly in warning, "If you drown me, I will haunt you."

"Judging by your frantic flopping, you're more liable to drag me down with you" she commented wryly in regards to his ungraceful splashing when he'd fallen into shallow water and during the video game. He had half a mind to chuck the wet cloth at her face in retaliation for his flaw because he wasn't fond of being made fun about it. Vivian merely smiled cheekily to cool his hotheadedness and boosted his confidence by adding in, "Besides, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to be stuck with me for eternity."

"What does exist after this life?" he contemplated softly on a question that plagued millions of human beings throughout the ages and one that would never be solved. The pieces of Eden performed miracles that developed the foundations for multiple religion and that brought into question about what truly existed after death itself. Altaïr would leave the world happily with knowing his order was safe and he'd done the best he could. Death could strike at any moment during his turbulent lifetime but his mind held questions about it just the same like any other person of his time. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the thin round leaves overhead full of youth and he pondered aloud, "Will I be granted peace when my soul leaves this body or will it disintegrate into the earth as well?"

"I don't know but all we can do is make the best of the time that's given to us" she replied earnestly with a fond pat to the top of his head and smiled to the feel of his prickly short hair tickling her palm. The assassin immediately frowned to the physical touch, especially when she grinned impishly and rubbed circles over his head. The last thing he needed to become was her new house cat.

"Vivian" he cautioned with a stern note and pressed his knee against the small of her back to warn her of an imminent kick if she continued. The young woman adhered to his demand and ceased her fun with his short cropped hair.

* * *

When Altaïr managed to gather his bearings without feeling the need to barf, they headed onwards to find trees that had fruits to bear. It was cheaper than wasting their money in bazaars and the assassins already knew what was edible as they'd seen many of the foods for sale. Hopefully, they wouldn't be trespassing on anybody's land since they were walking over rich Nile soil and they only sought a few items for a snack. With the large landscape around them, nobody would notice but Altaïr's robes could be a dead giveaway if somebody decided to peer closely from a short distance.

The three split up to cover more ground as Malik took a sharp stick he'd whittled in camp for poking Altaïr when he became stubborn or anything suspicious in his path. The mighty assassin himself could climb with ease like a monkey to grab his catch while Vivian. . .well, it looked easier in cartoons.

After ten minutes of trying to jump, climb, wiggle, and hoist herself up a fig tree, the historian gave up to fetch rocks. Cavemen had somehow managed to do this so she would evolve just like they had. . .without the animalistic calls and 2001: A Space Odyssey opening scenes. She chucked the small rocks at the stems holding the plump ripe fruits in place in each but failed to bring one down. How had humankind done this with mere sticks and stones?! In embarrassed rage, she hurled the last one into the foliage in front of her to pent out her frustration and sighed aloud, "Why-"

"_Vivian!"_

"Aw, fiddlesticks" she squeaked nervously as her last strike managed to hit an assassin on the back instead of fruit and tried to hide behind the tree in a quick attempt to hide. Hopefully, he would just pass her by and keep searching elsewhere as he kept his reprimands to himself. She could already imagine the furious scowl on his face as he treaded through the brush with the stealthy pace of a leopard on a hunt. It wasn't very hard to hide with her stature as she wedged herself in an open groove at the bottom of the tree, using a thick root to conceal her body. Her charcoal robes came in handy for neutral camouflage-

"There you are!" he declared triumphantly as he seized her by the back of her robes and pulled her out of her hiding spot with one forceful yank. Vivian thrashed in his grip because being chastised or goodness forbid, spanked, was not on today's itinerary. Altaïr, however, wasn't particularly happy about being stoned in the middle of a field but didn't put it past Vivian's mischievousness. Either she was stealthily clever or had ridiculously bad luck when it concerned him. He held her by the scruff of her neck and shook her lightly to knock sense into her as he reprimanded, "Did you really think you could hide? Why-"

"What're you, the Predator?!" she exclaimed with stunned surprise to how easily he'd zoned in and picked her off the ground without even trying. He just shot up to a whole new awesomeness level with that move alone! As wonderful as that was for the AC fandom, she wasn't ready to be throttled into unconsciousness or blamed for the accidental strike. Her fretful movements were causing further ire to the assassin so she decided to play possum and went lax in his arms to await his reaction. This was the easiest method to gain his full attention without the rage and it had succeeded twice in reaching a compromise. When he stopped squeezing her like a poor tube of cookie dough, she took his unguarded stance as an advantage to hastily get her point across, "I was trying to get fruit and never meant to hit you in any way. Why would I even want to? You're. . .my leader."

_Hmm, it sounded better in my head- everything sounds way better in my head!_, she chastised herself as her tone shifted towards awkwardness at the end. He had the uncanny ability of making her question herself when she spoke- those honey toned eyes were frighteningly piercing. Ubisoft had picked well in using an eagle to describe the man because each gaze turned her into a little mouse that debated whether it would live or die that day.

"You were fetching fruit . . . with _rocks_?" he asked incredulously since it was the most useless method but believed the woman when she smiled innocently. They'd never left her alone to fetch fruit from trees so this was just another task that her futuristic life had no need to do. He released her with reluctance because he was always eager for a spat that would rile her but never attack her personally (he'd learned his lesson). She couldn't help her lack of knowledge on survival and Vivian had never actually jabbed or hit him lightly without a reason- her earlier paddle whack being one of them.

"I'm vertically challenged here, Long Legs McGee" she replied swiftly with blushing cheeks as the heat and situation embarrassed her in front of the impassive man. Why couldn't she have a badass aura that could equal his? Right, she was just an average woman that had become sweetly addicted to video games and reading. If anything, she held the awesomeness of a peanut. His eyes narrowed to the name calling and she pointed towards her previous spot where small rocks were scattered to insist truthfully, "All I had were rocks."

"For a woman fit to be a scholar, you have no survival skills whatsoever" he mused with disappointment as he clicked his tongue and her shoulders slumped to match her plummeting confidence. Her foot scuffed the dirt in modesty since she had no comeback to his opinion and she had the strength of a small shrew with a broken foot at this point in her life. True, she could beat a civilian with an oar but someone of Altaïr's strength would swat her away like a fly. It was times like this that she seriously considered throwing herself into a Mary Sue well to grab a pinch of their 'super-awesome-kawaii-beauty' just so she could show Altaïr that she wasn't entirely hopeless. After a moment of clear thinking, she slapped herself mentally in reminder that Altaïr was a man that worked hard for his successes and respected others who did the same. Shortcuts were easy to take but the long roads full of hardships chiseled one's true character and Vivian would like to see just how far she could go in his world.

"I don't like being helpless but assimilation takes time" she admitted sullenly with a faint smile to her shortcomings since she tried her best to be productive. It was easier in the modern world where she didn't fear for her life every day and hoped that a poisonous creature wouldn't bite her during sleep to kill her off. Learning defense training and language was marvelous but Vivian continuously searched for her own way to contribute to the team in order to avoid becoming a hindrance. She crossed her arms loosely as he read her uncertain body language quite clearly and she murmured hopefully, "Don't give up on me, I'll find my way."

"I'm not a verbally expressive man but. . ." he hesitated unsurely since Vivian had begun to stir the same protectiveness he felt for his fellow assassins and cursed his luck for bringing her along. Women tended to twist his world upside down in the oddest of ways but thankfully, she wasn't running around trying to stab him in the back. She was her own vulnerable person but never hesitated to aid him (without needing to be asked) and awkwardly patted the top of her head to state slowly, "There."

She chuckled to his simple show of camaraderie and cocked her head towards the tree to pipe up, "Let's get this fruit so we can continue south."

She spotted colorful pears beneath a tree's green canopy and it automatically spelled food for her hungry stomach. Pears! A modern recognizable food that she'd often hated eating in her mixed fruit bowls but now desired wholeheartedly. It brought her a sweet tiny reminder of home and wanted one in her hands to reconnect to that lost bond. Her hand waved at the tree as she used the other to usher the assassin to her side and she called out eagerly, "Altaïr, boost me!"

"Or _I_ could get it" he stated simply since his skills would have it in his hands within three foot movements but she shot him a stern glare. No, she wanted to do this. He wasn't going to be caught between a stubborn woman and her goal so he decided to abide and rested his right foot against the trunk of the tree. He wasn't going to be leaning down after experiencing horrible vertigo and feigned a snort of disdain, "Fine. You women and your independence, the future must be so different."

"And we like it, sir" she yipped back smartly with a pleasant smile as she placed her right foot on top of his leg to boost herself onto the tree. She tried to pull herself up while he stared listlessly because he could already foresee her impending failure. Her hands were moving in all the wrong directions to grasp the trunk and her furious skidding wasn't helping her get up there any faster. When she threw herself against the trunk to grip it like a baby monkey, he held back a wince to the horrible attempt. Why couldn't she simply ask him to grab the fruit for her? It would've been easier and he wouldn't have thought less of her. . .but he would've teased her.

She fell down seconds later, scraping her arms on the way down and her feet landed atop of his. The sudden fall threw him off balance and caused him to lurch forward automatically to find stable posture. For the first time ever, the man's eyes widened in embarrassment to the position his leg joints locked him into and his lips parted in a silent exclamation. Vivian whined painfully as she was pressed tightly between the rough tree and the assassin's full body weight, already knowing her robes had ripped from the fall as the front of her skirt hiked up to the knee. Having the assassin pressed against her from behind added further mortification as their personal distance reached intimate proportions and the position was horribly awkward. Where were lecherous AC fangirls when Vivian needed them to take her place? Ezio's personality could play off of that snafu but Altaïr's conservative rigidness made it harder to do so. Goodness, the man was taller and heavier than she would've thought.

She tried to make light humor of it and laughed nervously to hide the red tint forming over her face as she joked, "Oh great, I have to marry you now."

"Vivian" he scolded irritably with a low growl to the bold words and yanked her off the tree as she rubbed her scraped elbows. Both were relieved to their previous social distance that spelled safety as Vivian smoothed down her robes to fix her appearance and hoped they hadn't torn somewhere indecent. Altaïr cleared his throat to dissipate his previous discomfort and pointed towards another tree that bore fruit to order quietly, "Let's go."

"But the fruit-" Vivian protested hastily since she wanted to eat normal pears but he was hearing none of it. He was almost tempted to break off a branch from a nearby small tree and whack her on the leg to move her like a stubborn mule. It certainly would've soothed the sudden rush of embarrassment since it was rare to feel such an emotion but Vivian tended to pull such restrained feelings to his exterior.

Before the assassin had the chance to reenact a farming scene with the woman, Malik popped in with an arm full of apples, pears, and dates. Unlike the duo, he had been successful in his exploration and declared proudly with a pearly grin, "No need."

Both Altaïr and Vivian gaped at the man since neither had fetched anything from the area. Well, Altaïr had found a melon but he'd eaten it through his walk to satiate his gurgling stomach so he didn't count it. It was embarrassing for a one-armed dai to beat them with enough fruit to last days and Altaïr questioned with surprise, "_How_ did you get the fruit?"

The dai grinned cleverly to his gained skills and told them cryptically, "An assassin doesn't reveal his secrets."

Vivian stared at her stinging red hands and groaned miserably to her awful luck, "No fair, all I got were scratched hands and body groped by Altaïr. If we'd been in public, we'd be exchanging dowries and owning a homestead to grow crops on by now."

"I didn't grope you!" he seethed for such an insinuation because he wouldn't dare touch a woman unless she approved and he smacked away most people that drew near most of the time. Malik handed him the fruits he'd collected to occupy his hands before he decided to chase Vivian around in circles and stuffed a dusty apple into his mouth to silence any oncoming yells. The assassin curled his lips and his face wrinkled in disgust when his tongue touched the dusty waxy skin, spitting out the apple before his teeth became stuck.

Vivian shook her head humorously and placed her hands on the start of her hips as she joked lightly, "I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Besides, you just lost out on having the best wife this side of the Nile. I can sew, read, cook, recite popular tales, teach history, sing-"

"Ugh, that's not a gift" Altaïr shuddered visibly with a wrinkled nose to her list because her voice would not allure anything but a dying creature waiting to be put out of its misery. She nudged his side lightly with her elbow for the jab as she grabbed a few fruits from him to lighten the bundle since Malik had used his robes to create a makeshift basket. Out of all of his taunts, she actually enjoyed his remarks against her voice because she loved to wobble his mighty pedestal with her off-key singing. She leaned over to grab the poor abused apple he'd been silenced with to avoid throwing it away (food was precious in that time) and he added in with a sardonic tone, "That's the highest form of torture."

Malik couldn't help but laugh at this as he led the way back to the canoe. He could pick off a few more fruits if they needed along the way since it was clear that he'd beaten the two on foraging. Of course, his natural skills and carrying a sharpened walking stick made picking fruit incredibly easy but they didn't need to know that.

"I was _spared_ the lifelong torment" he proclaimed wryly in regards to her witty banter in song and she cackled evilly in the classic 'wicked witch' tone to match his comment. Altaïr didn't know whether having her agree was better than her badger feistiness and nudged her to move along when she tried to mimic him and Apple of Eden by grabbing the fruit. She pouted to having her fun short-lived before she could act a parody scene from Snow White and he gazed at her to state with faint amusement, "Besides, assassins don't make homely husbands . . . but we do make flashy entrances."

Vivian laughed as he finally shared a joke about himself and grinned cheekily, "Ah, so you _do_ have a humorous side. I was beginning to think brooding was your only one after endless fighting with Templars and the random boot of Maria to your face."

"I don't brood. . .and she didn't hit me. . .much" he scoffed to the absurd claim since he was on his way to a wise man but both Malik and Vivian shared a look that said otherwise. Damn it, he hated when they did that unison look that automatically shared messages that left him barred as the outsider. Vivian and Malik were complementing each other's personalities too much as time passed; he wanted Malik to stay closer to his side so he could bombard Vivian with verbal jabs. He wasn't a prankster or jokester but the two made quite a good partnership when he disagreed on a topic or place to visit. Malik was a cunning fox and Vivian was a witty badger- it didn't bode well for the cautious eagle.

He wanted to wipe the smirk off Malik's face and the peppy grin on Vivian's but muttered flatly, "Let's carry on."

"No, I forbid you to be broody" Vivian protested quickly to stop the man from giving himself premature wrinkles and scaring off wildlife with his evil eye. Altaïr ignored her request by dumping the fruit into her arms to occupy her further with the extra weight and strode forward into the brush. She scoffed under her breath as he avoided being goaded into her circle of gentle humor and called out, "This won't stop me, assassin man. I am the Energizer Bunny of the 1190s and you will turn that frown upside down-"

"You won't get any supper if you keep prattling on, woman" he shot back swiftly to quiet her peeps because he was fine being the broody one of the group- which he _wasn't_. He preferred to call it focused and pensive, not keen on having someone else micromanage his personality. Hmm, or maybe he was jumping to defensive conclusions again?

Malik threw a small twig at the back of his head and stated dryly, "_We_ make supper while you eat it all."

Altaïr decided to concede the battle at that point as Vivian managed to use her secret weapon without needing to ask. Why had Malik decided to join Vivian's side? Well, at least he had fruit to enjoy for the day and he'd take humorous solace in knowing Vivian's hands were sore. The fact that her limbs were in pain didn't mean that her mouth was down for the count as well. . .

"_We're off to see the wizard,  
The wonderful wizard of POE's-"  
_

"Vivian!"

"Sorry."

* * *

Well, they didn't find the island that day.

By nighttime, they were glad for the drop in temperature and chuckled together when they required thin blankets to keep warm after supper. Despite the annoying seasickness and different weather patterns, Altaïr had grown fond of traveling with others rather than alone. True, it took longer to pack everything to move but the companionship made the silence more bearable. After scrubbing their dishes and placing them in boiled water to prevent any malicious bacteria from clinging on, Vivian plopped herself down next to Altaïr as the man sharpened his knives. During the day, Malik was her talkative partner due to their proximity in the canoe but he shifted focus to his maps and books during the night. That left the broody Altaïr to fill the open spot and although he hated chatting, she focused on his likes to talk about.

She'd made small talk about Damascus steel to learn more about its history as Altaïr admitted he'd often help the blade smiths in Masyaf to learn his way around a smithy. Due to his solitary life on the road during missions, he didn't want to be caught unaware with a damaged weapon and learned how to improvise with a bad blade. His trusty sword had been crafted by a master smith and himself as Altaïr shaped the scorching steel ingot to forge it into a mighty weapon that failed to leave his side. Although he wasn't sharpening the weapon at the moment, Vivian would wait like a patient sheep to see it one day- when it wasn't cutting down enemies.

"Do you want me to sharpen that halberd?" he offered sincerely and pointed to the weapon she'd looted in Giza as it rested in its sheath on top of her packs. Both Malik and Altaïr were in agreement that she should stay away from the weapon until she could handle its weight and perform basic attacks. . .which wouldn't be anytime soon. Vivian, however, nodded vehemently with pride that he offered to do as such and fought not to gush out her appreciation. If she'd been back at home and seen weapons cleaning, she wouldn't have given it a second thought. Now, whenever she watched him work, it brought the same euphoria as playing the game since he was meticulously careful in each movement. Plainly put, seeing him at work was like foreplay.

When he applied oil to clean it free of waxes or skin oils, Vivian smirked naughtily to chide her companion and jested with a sultry tone, "Oh yeah, show that naughty halberd who's boss-"

"Vivian!" he scolded with stunned surprise and she burst into laughter when she caught the bewildered look on his face. Had her voice thrown him off-guard completely? She shook her hands to dismiss her whole joke entirely before he decided to use the halberd on her and fought down her fits of laughter. Even Malik laughed from his spot next to Altaïr, dropping his quill for a moment to finish his bout before returning to his work. She smiled innocently when his eyes narrowed and he lectured sternly, "Woman, have you no shame? A weapon is an extension of your limb-"

"You bet it is" she grinned cheekily with a wag of her arched eyebrows and handed him a whetstone to sharpen any dull areas on the blade. Altaïr didn't know whether to believe her words or ignore the ridiculously inappropriate phrases. Why couldn't he be stuck alongside a man from the thirteenth century? At least then, they would be similar in privacy. Weapons were valuable to their owners, especially his, and he wondered if Vivian was remotely interested in weapon care due to her history interests. He took the sharpening tool from her hand and she pointed to a vertical point on the halberd to suggest, "Sharpen that scuffed area right there and make it gleam like a star for momma."

He stopped cleaning the weapon since it was the first step before doing anything else and eyed the woman suspiciously to demand, "Are you intoxicated? Or are you actually . . . _aroused_ by this?"

"You said aroused" she giggled girlishly as she'd yet to catch any kind of adulterated words from him and Malik broke into another fit of laughter at thinking the same. Altaïr was ready to chuck the halberd at her tent to slice it open in retaliation but decided that the weapon deserved a nice cleaning after being in awful Templar hands. Vivian quieted her rambunctious laughter as she resumed her calm even toned voice to state pleasantly, "I wanted to joke with you but I forget you're not lenient on certain topics. Your dedication to keep everything around you in working shape is admirable and I'd actually like to learn about weapon maintenance. Who knows, there might be a smith trait inside this little form of mine."

He scoffed with amusement to her petite frame and smirked to tease, "You'd fall over hammering an ingot into a blade."

"There we go, smith humor!" she encouraged chirpily as she found relational balance in their interaction and clapped her hands to continue their exchange. Altaïr couldn't chastise her for carefree fun about smithing and allowed the comment as he resumed his meticulous cleaning. Vivian called it a success since Altaïr still carried that aura of mystery that had been unfolding with Ezio's character as the franchise focused on his entire life whereas Altaïr only had a single game (she cried in regretful shame after playing Chronicles though).

"Who knows, you might just earn yourself a new assistant" Malik chuckled softly as he drew careful lines over his pristine paper and Altaïr resisted from smacking his ink bottle over the book. He'd tried it once after their friendship renewed and the dai had unscrewed another underneath his desk to bathe him in the ink to return the favor. Altaïr learned the hard way that he'd never anger the dai because he would lose valuable robes over it (he did use them as rags though).

"Or set the room on fire" Altaïr muttered listlessly since Vivian would somehow manage to ruin a safe room with her inadequate skills. The woman was sharp as she wielded her knowledge like a blade but shift that weapon into her hands and the result would be catastrophic. It caused him to pity her but at the same time, knowing that she was determined to improve herself took that mindset away.

Vivian scribbled down a note filled with Arabic and English words as she kept blending her main tongue to the dominant one. Practice made perfect, right? Altaïr couldn't ignore her loud scribbling as she pressed the quill down onto the paper and sighed dismally, "What are you doing now, you rambunctious badger?"

"A song. . .for you" she smiled brightly with pride because this time, she wouldn't utter a peep. His brow furrowed with concern to this new development because music should _never_ be associated with the woman- if anything, it should've been a law. She handed him the small strip of paper and explained eagerly, "It's a humorous anecdote on my assumptions of how you feel about me. Trust me, there's nothing inappropriate in there."

Altaïr read the paper quietly since nobody had ever written him a song (of all things) and objected flatly, "I'm not singing this-"

Malik cleared his throat to clearly state that he should do otherwise because the dai wanted to hear it. If he didn't, he could expect to find an article of clothing soaking in black ink. The assassin groaned miserably to his unfortunate situation (cursing the two meddling gremlins) and decided on a compromise as he read aloud:

"_You're so annoying, you pitiful, tiny historian.  
I'd like to help you, but I don't know if I can.  
I thought you were nuts,  
But you're really, really, __**really**__nuts._

_Every time I move, you find me and start hanging around._  
_Just another lame excuse to see me._  
_How can it not give me a frown?_  
_It's almost enough to go on a Templar killing spree._  
_But you keep me from feeling down._  
_You know, I'm actually glad to see you._  
_Maybe I'm the one who's . . . nuts."_

"I find that shrewdly perceptive on the last part" Malik joked good-naturedly about his friend and Altaïr growled at being deemed insane. He was even more infuriated at knowing he understood that futuristic jargon since he specifically ordered no more of it. The dangerous weapon in his hand sated his irritancy as the dai mused with an amused tone, "Even as a legume, you have a tough shell-"

"I get it" he muttered sharply but it softened when Vivian wrote 'For Altaïr' in Arabic rather than her natural Roman script. Well, she wasn't hopelessly lost if she managed to avoid singing and written with decent penmanship. He shook his head as he folded the scrap of paper to tuck it into one of his pockets and sighed aloud, "Maybe I am being driven insane by both of you but it's better to be driven manic by friends than alone in the desert."

* * *

As if their night hadn't been lively enough, Altaïr flew into defense mode when they'd been ready to retire for the night and he was changing into his sleepwear. Now that he was far from civilization, he felt the rarity of safety and enjoyed climbing into bed to sleep his worries away. Of course, that wasn't going to happen that night. Vivian surprised them when she gasped from the shore below as she'd gone down to fetch her last pack for a few items. They had made camp on a decent hill since they'd seen crocodiles in the early day further north, a fact that frightened them (it was also why he wanted to keep his knives sharp). Altaïr was barely slipping into his cotton trousers when she declared in a panicked voice that echoed, "Oh no! Aw man, that's a dead goat! Oh my- _augh, no_!"

In his haste to help his friend, he accidentally fell down on his face as he fought to shimmy into his stubborn pants. Hitting his left cheek on a leather boot increased his frustration as he gave up on fixing his trousers and stumbled out of his tent's entrance. He barely managed to tie them as he flew down the hill to find her and whatever had killed the animal she'd spotted. Malik was already a few feet ahead of him as her hands waved in the air at the bottom of the bank and she exclaimed dramatically, "Its guts are all over the place! It's all chopped up and spread around-"

"Are you sure it's a goat? It's rather obscured under the moonlight" Malik asked her for clarification since his candle couldn't see past a few feet and Vivian was already half-hidden. Altaïr, meanwhile, was trying to catch his breath after flying down the hill and Vivian slowly inched forward towards the area in question.

She took the courage to walk forward towards the dark spot that frightened her instantly upon arrival and inspected the 'dead goat'. D'oh, why had she decided to come down during the night? This is what horror movies were made from- did she learn nothing from Jaws? The men waited in suspense to make sure nothing attacked their companion near the water and her voice shook with a tone of relief, "No wait, it's just a piece of cloth."

She scurried over to quickly grab a brown cloth she'd accidentally dropped earlier since she'd grabbed everything without looking back. When Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad told you to begin building the tents, you listened without question. She smiled innocently as she saw the irritated frown on Altaïr's face as the earlier order came back to bite her in the butt and chuckled nervously, "Sorry, I had a poo brain moment. False alarm, people."

"Poo brain?" he repeated with incredulity to her words as his hands shot up to pull at his short brown hair and she nodded innocently. Was the woman daft at this hour of the night? Did she not know he almost broke a foot running to help her? Not to mention, falling face first onto his shoes?! Damn it, he ran down the hill without shoes and only now just realized that his feet were covered in wet soggy dirt. This was _not_ the way he wanted to retire for the night and pointed towards camp to order sternly, "Vivian, it is too late to ponder about your crazy phrases. Go to bed."

Vivian wasn't ready to bid goodnight to the duo and squared her shoulders to protest, "But-"

"To _bed_, Vivian" Altaïr stated firmly with a nonnegotiable expression that caused her to concede to his decision. It wasn't hard because his disheveled appearance told her he'd run for her sake and it had turned out to be a false alarm. That wasn't a good idea when you traveled with the impassively awesome Altaïr.

Like an obedient child, she obeyed her leader as she hugged her wet cloth and scuttled up the dirt hill to head for her tent. Malik eyed the shoeless assassin as his tunic was sloppily in place and his trousers were lower than they should've been. Frankly, the man looked absolutely nothing like the assassin he was as the simple clothes gave him a peasant or farmer type of appearance. His friend might snap and lecture the woman but there was compassion in his physical appearance since running like lightning while underdressed didn't spell uncaring. Altaïr caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes and wagged a finger to state firmly, "Not a _word_, Malik."

With that said, he stomped back towards camp with a frown since the cold dirt wedging between his toes was not comfortable at all.

* * *

**A/N**: Wow, this chapter came out longer than I anticipated. Hopefully, the pace was right and the grammar was correct since I've been busy since Thanksgiving with school and life itself. Again, we see Vivian's lack of survival skills as she's taken away from civilization and Altaïr's dislike for open water. I think only Malik is having the best time of his life, I'm thinking of having him build a prosthetic since there were good examples in prior eras- quite a few from Africa. This adventure is testing Altaïr's will and patience, especially after almost breaking his leg to help Vivian's false alarm of a croc. In the next chapter, the trio will visit the Valley of Kings for a moment Altaïr won't soon forget.

Thank you for the continuous reviews, I love your feedback and send virtual hugs for taking the time to do them. Kudos to my loyal reviewers, I love you guys.

_KrnYong_: From reading his codex, Altaïr loved his kids but for some reason, the books from the game kind of portrayed him as distant once they grew- which I totally don't like. I want him to be nervous and worried for his little bundle back in Masyaf and honored to bond with his child, no matter how old they become. I'm in agreement about Malik, he's the bro that will have your back covered and smack you upside the head to knock sense into you. It almost makes me wistful as to why I didn't make this a Vivian/Malik story; curse my fangirlness. Ah well, I'll give him his cup full of happiness in the story.

_Dimples1476_: The next chapter is dedicated to you because I'd been trying to find an over the top humor bit about the Valley of the Kings and you nailed it! I love rewriting songs to fit the AC world and Altaïr just hates them when Vivian sings.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: I'm always glad to know I keep their interactions balanced and I love each of the characters. Altaïr was always very stoic and determined to keep to his cause in the game, never showing a lot of emotions. Again, this was set by his environment but now that he's free of Al Mualim's influence, he can explore what was condemned as an emotional contaminant- babies bring nothing but warmth. I love the 'slowly two' comment since Vivian's constantly trying to impress him. Let's just say her future haircuts will not be placing her on his good side. As for Malik, the next outburst will be in south Sudan when Altaïr's daily hunt goes wrong in the humorous sense. Malik is very restrained and in control of his emotions while Altaïr is a firecracker when poked the wrong way, which is a perfect combo for the little flame known as Vivian.

_WhatTheCensoredXD_: Thank you for loving the story, I'm always glad to hear from new readers. Vivian is a normal non-violent stick wielding woman full of innocent humor so thanks for enjoying her character; the poor thing needs a candy bar in that archaic era. I'm glad you love their adventures because Altaïr definitely didn't enjoy this one.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Ooh, I loved your baby metaphor. Malik always tries his best to keep his companions without stress but yes, Altaïr is human and bound to feel like any new father. I'm sure Vivian will be making up nicknames to call the little bundle since she's trying to see the good side of it all. While Altaïr is logical, she's hopelessly optimistic and doesn't hesitate to help the obstinate assassin. Sorry you have no internet at home, another reader is having technical issues too so my heart goes out to you both after enduring the same this year.

* * *

**Next Time**: _When Disney Meets Altaïr_

As he headed downhill, Vivian was struck with an old movie song that had filled her ears years ago as his robes fluttered in the wind like a cape as he treaded through the desert. She intentionally fell behind to walk in pace with Malik and shared her plan since he had become her brother in breaking Altaïr's stoic mask. The dai never hesitated to poke the assassin with innocent good-natured humor and with a Cheshire grin, Vivian began a humorous song that broke the silence in the valley.

"_Make way!_  
_Here he comes!_  
_Ring bells! Bang the drums!_  
_Are you gonna love this guy!_ (Altaïr's face fell when she waved her hands towards him)

_Grand Master Alti! Fabulous he!  
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
Genuflect, show some respect  
Down on one knee!  
Now, try your best to stay calm  
Brush up your Sunday salaam  
Then come and meet his spectacular coterie _(Altaïr fought down a sigh when she pointed directly at him)

_Grand Master Alti!  
Mighty is he!  
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
Strong as ten regular men, definitely!  
He faced the Templar galloping hordes  
A hundred bad guys with swords _(she imitated fighting with an invisible sword)  
_Who sent those goons to their lords?"_

Altaïr turned around swiftly with stunned bewilderment when Malik joined her tune, _"Why, Grand Master Alti!"_

Vivian waved her hand through the air with a silly grin to sing, _"He's got seventy-five Levant hawks."_

Malik feigned shock, ignoring Altaïr's heated glare, and asked with a singing voice that could've won a Grammy, _"Saker falcons?"_

Vivian clapped her hands once as she squared her shoulders to stand straight and continued,_ "He's got fifty-three!_ _When it comes to exotic-type stocks-"_

Malik leaned over to nudge his higher shoulders with hers and intervened in the song in cue to ask_, "Has he got a zoo?_

Vivian clapped him on the back with delight as she drew him into a one-armed hug and sang, "_I'm telling you, it's a world-class menageri-i-i-i-e._"

Altaïr truly began to question the sanity of Malik since the man had never shared Vivian's awful singing and his own for standing there to hear it. Why did most of her songs involve him in humorous situations? Vivian released the dai to skitter forward like a ballerina to match a dainty feminine woman and placed the back of her right hand over her forehead to continue with her song.

"_Grand Master Alti!  
Handsome is he, Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
That physique! How can I speak? _(She fanned herself with a hand)  
_Weak at the knee  
Well, get on out in that square  
Adjust your vein and prepare  
To gawk and grovel and stare at Grand Master Alti! _(She intertwined her hands to imitate a swoon)

_There's no question this Alti's alluring  
Never ordinary, never boring  
Everything about the man just plain impresses  
He's a winner, he's a whiz, a wonder!  
He's about to pull my heart asunder!  
And I absolutely love the way he dresses!"_

Altaïr pointed at the clear blue sky with an outraged scowl for being put in such a humiliating position and dared angrily, "If you admire my work, I _order_ you beings to strike me down with lightning at once. I refuse to hear this torture!"

Malik ignored his dramatic demands as they stood on higher ground and continued, _"He's got ninety-five white Persian monkeys."_

Vivian clapped her hands giddily as she ran in small circles around the dai to portray a happy observant and sang, _"He's got the monkeys! Let's see the monkeys!"_

He stopped her short run by grabbing her shoulder and patted Vivian on the head like a child to calm her dramatization. Altaïr wanted to rip his hood off and stomp over it in anger as they viewed him like a ghost to their spectacle. Vivian's eyes were comically large as she hopped in place and Malik smiled as he went on, _"And to view them, he charges no fee."  
_

Vivian pretended to swoon as she placed a hand to her forehead and sang dreamily, _"He's generous, so generous."_

Malik raised his arm in an arc over the horizon as he stood on top of the small dune and declared, _"He's got assassins, he's got servants and flunkies."_

Vivian faked a military salute as she continued the next verse,  
_"Proud to work for him  
They bow to his whim_ (she brought her arms down to imitate praise)  
_Love serving him_ (she puckered her lips for emphasis)  
_They're just lousy with loyalty to Alti!"  
_

* * *

_Thank you for reading and please leave a review for Vivian to chew on- the poor thing needs it. Have a beautiful day or calm night at where you're at, dear readers!  
_


	27. When Disney Meets Altair

**Inspired By: **_Jesper Kyd- 'Istanbul'_**  
**

* * *

**When Disney Meets Altaïr  
**

* * *

Their last view on Egyptian architecture came at the Valley of the Kings near the Thebes area after Vivian told Altaïr he'd be missing a piece of remarkable history that withstood the passage of time and he took the detour to shut her up. The woman had grown smart in her form of verbal attack as she used her valuable asset of screeching music into his ears when her words didn't make effect. He would be kicking himself mentally within the hour for agreeing with her . . . and for allowing himself to become captivated with the vast valley.

The trio had left their trusty canoe next to a debris field on the river, covering it with twigs and leaves to conceal it in case anybody passed by. Vivian highly doubted it but Altaïr left no leeway when it concerned possible theft since he worked hard for his purchases. The area was entirely deserted as civilization had faded away within the last two hours of their trip so they were on their own in the foreign land. The travelers stood on a large sand dune, the Valley of the Kings providing a beautiful scenic view in the background as Vivian smiled with disbelief to the historic site. This was a moment that no other student in her classes had witnessed but yearned to see in their lifetimes- it was a privilege to stand on the earth that ancient Egyptians had walked on. There were no words to describe what she felt as her passion for history had shifted into reality as she traveled alongside the assassin. She was sunburnt, thirsty, itchy, and probably a little stinky, but nobody in her time could say the same.

Turning to Altaïr, she spoke from the heart as her voice shook softly, "Thank you for bringing me here."

He nodded quietly as his actions spoke volumes and also, he didn't want her to become a leech on him again. She held no issues embracing others openly but he wasn't the type to initiate physical contact with anybody. There was a light breeze in the wind and he could see the heat distorting the view in the horizon as temperatures remained the same. He began descending the hill in the direction of the monuments that Ramesses II built which alerted Vivian and she asked quickly, "Wait, where are you going?"

"To see the tombs, we're already here" he explained nonchalantly as his white robes fluttered in the wind and Vivian scrambled after him down the hill, raising a veil of sand. Malik stayed on top for a moment to relish a small moment of peace but was dismayed that Altaïr chose this time to explore. Did he not realize how hot it was? He was pretty sure he saw a bird on fire on their way to the valley.

Vivian pulled up the hood of her robes to keep the sand away from entering her eyes and pointed out hastily, "This place is sacred during these times and their discoveries will come later. It's best to just look at it from afar and don't wander close- like Masyaf."

"I'm not wandering inside, just looking at the architecture" Altaïr stated matter-of-factly since he carried no fear on old deserted places and headed for the nearest tomb area. Vivian worried over every little thing when they ventured into historic sites but Altaïr could handle himself in those iffy situations. On the other hand, he could empathize with the woman since she carried none of his skills but he would prepare her to face the world. He pointed towards the great valley that stretched for miles as Vivian reached his side with tired pants and explained, "People that are centuries old lie dormant within those walls, it reminds me of our tombs. They're myths, of course, since nobody has found one but only the greatest of assassins have been buried in such a way similar to Egyptians."

"It's not a myth, there are many tombs that will be found by your descendants- oddly enough, all in Italy" Vivian enlightened with a curious tone at the end about that fact and Altaïr was all ears. She found it strange how so many assassins ended up in Italy itself and wondered if the Templars had spread to their lands to the point that it caused retreats by the assassin's order. Specks of sand tickled her lips as she walked through the sand and Vivian covered her mouth with her sleeve to state enthusiastically, "There's one that belongs to this country but she is long gone, the killer of Cleopatra. You will need these tombs to unlock a gift to your descendants on top of your own but alas, you pull a Houdini and your body isn't there- just a very fancy statue of you. You're even wearing that same frown on your lips, it's apparently eternal."

Malik laughed to her subtle joke as her voice carried over the silent landscape and asked with curiosity, "How would we even find all of them and hide them Italy?"

"I don't know- assassin magic?" she grinned impishly to the awesome gift of superpowers that would have her burned at the stake and received a whack to the head from Altaïr. That ought to bring her head out of the clouds and back to reality. She whined in resemblance to a kitten as she held her head protectively and complained with a humorous pout, "Hey, you promised not to hit me anymore. I have a very soft head, you know."

Altaïr simply pushed her along with a gentle hand to keep moving since her head was anything but soft. He remembered butting heads with her in Giza's inn and the crash had not been soft as she'd gone to sleep immediately while he nursed a small bump. She scuttled onwards as she hoped sand wouldn't enter her shoes to scratch at her skin and heard him mutter flatly, "You could've fooled me."

In retaliation, she poked him in the outer corner of his eye and he snarled fiercely, _"Vivian!"_

"My head's not made of stone like these guys" she pointed out with a frown as she flicked her thumb towards the limestone statues ahead of them and held her head comically to garner sympathy points. Altaïr didn't fall for her ploy as her gender, not to mention badger rage, allowed him to look past the witty historian that would retaliate if he softened. It was strange in a way as she encouraged him to stay strong but he'd never allow harm to befall the woman- he needed a jester, right?

"If it was, we could use you for breaking down doors and in a fight- two things you fail at" he stated sardonically since she was still squeamish in combat and would rather poke injured enemies with a stick or blind them with sand. Whenever she tried to practice stealth techniques, he'd easily overpower her and retrieve whatever item she'd tried to nab- most of the time, it was his hood.

This time, Malik witnessed Vivian chasing the assassin down the flat earth and wondered if the sun was starting to affect his friend's head. When had Altaïr ever allowed himself to be chased for _fun_? It was baffling! Their rabble echoed through the valley as he shot off reasons as to why she'd be a good human shield while she grabbed random pebbles to hurl at the assassin. The dai decided to leave them alone in their pointless chasing since the wasted energy would mean less sass from both of them upon returning to the canoe. Malik, after all, was a smart man- not a hotheaded one like Altaïr, who was imitating a chicken with its head cut off.

From up ahead, Altaïr halted immediately and grabbed Vivian by the shoulders to halt her running in one move. She objected to being grabbed like a rag doll since the man held incredible strength and he towered over her already by nine inches. A hissing rattle in front of them told Vivian they'd just avoided trampling over a dangerous snake. Vivian made the grievous error of glancing down to see a sandy hued horned viper and clutched the assassin around the sides for protection for the very first time. Did he happen to have experience assassinating snakes? The continuing rattle from the reptile told him to leave the area quickly and he ordered softly, "Back away slowly."

Vivian listened as they moved backwards in unison from the angry viper but she mumbled back, "Give me your shirt."

It was enough to break his concentration away from the dangerous snake and he hissed in resemblance to the animal, _"What?!"_

This caused the snake to hiss more to the rise in volume from the intruders upon its territory and Vivian told him in a calm voice, "Maybe I can shoo it away if it nears-"

"Or we could just continue walking away" he shot back in a low hiss and pulled her back alongside him with one arm before she decided to unclothe him in public. Knowing Vivian, it wouldn't be a farfetched idea for self-preservation but he wasn't about to be humiliated in such a way.

"What if it chases us? You have an animal magnetism they _can't_ disobey" she whispered back in regards to his scuffles with wildlife but he shoved her back, moving away from the snake. It's rattling dissipated as they took a detour to head elsewhere in the valley, signaling for Malik to follow their direction. He avoided being bitten but he'd be strangled by Malik if his friend managed to get bitten by accident. Altaïr was not looking forward to being involved in a double homicide that left Vivian alone as a witness because she'd be killed a minute later by the wandering viper. That was a horrible way to end the day and since Vivian didn't want a mission failure either, she hissed in return to the fading snake, "Shoo, you can't have him. He's Templar food."

He shook his head to her humorous quips as he led her away from the animal, hoping another one wasn't waiting in the wings. He'd often heard about the dangerous snakes dwelling in the desert and kept to flat land with short grass to avoid any dangerous encounters. Vivian pointed to the remaining temples nearby that were close in walking distance and the trio headed there to see the remnants of a once great people. Vivian smiled broadly to the ancient temple that withstood time and remarked with a perky smile, "Never did I imagine myself walking over the same earth of ancient Egyptians, top archaeologists, and historians of my times. There are no words to describe this and it makes all of the craziness I've endured worth it- even these agonizingly itchy mosquito bites."

Altaïr eyed her suspiciously since sincere joy usually brought forth a banshee's song and questioned shrewdly, "You're not going to dress up and reenact a tale, are you?"

"Not in this heat and wild animals about" she retorted with an upturned nose and trudged forwards with the sand crunching underneath her shoes as she walked.

* * *

The trio explored the popular sites Vivian remembered were accessible in this area of the valley but they couldn't dawdle behind schedule. They were already risking their skin by traveling down the Nile and the sun was at its highest at the current moment, forcing her to have a quick glimpse of ancient architecture. When Altaïr told her it was time to hightail it back, she didn't argue as her lack of a decent pencil and tracing paper were missing.

As he headed downhill to the main trail they followed, Vivian was struck with an old movie song that had filled her ears years ago as his robes fluttered in the wind like a cape as he treaded through the desert. If she had her sketch pad, she would've drawn him as well as the site was artist worthy (and ahem, fangirl worthy). She intentionally fell behind to walk in pace with Malik and shared her mischievous plan since he had become her brother in breaking Altaïr's stoic mask. What fan wouldn't love being his partner in humorous crime? The dai never hesitated to poke the assassin with innocent good-natured humor and with a Cheshire grin, she began a humorous song that broke the silence in the tranquil valley. . .

"_Grand Master Alti! Fabulous he!  
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
Genuflect, show some respect  
Down on one knee!  
Now, try your best to stay calm  
Brush up your Sunday salaam  
Then come and meet his spectacular coterie _(Altaïr fought down a sigh when she pointed directly at him)

_Grand Master Alti!  
Mighty is he!  
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
Strong as ten regular men, definitely!  
He faced the Templar galloping hordes  
A hundred bad guys with swords _(she imitated fighting with an invisible sword)  
_Who sent those goons to their lords?"_

Altaïr turned around swiftly with stunned bewilderment when Malik joined her tune, _"Why, Grand Master Alti!"_

Vivian waved her left hand through the air with a silly grin to sing, _"He's got seventy-five Levant hawks."_

Malik feigned shock, ignoring Altaïr's heated glare, and asked with a singing voice that could've won a Grammy, _"Saker falcons?"_

Vivian clapped her hands once as she squared her shoulders to stand straight and continued,_ "He's got fifty-three!_ _When it comes to exotic-type stocks-"_

Malik leaned over to nudge his higher shoulders with hers and intervened in the song in cue to ask_, "Has he got a zoo?_

Vivian clapped him on the back with delight as she drew him into a one-armed hug and sang, "_I'm telling you, it's a world-class menageri-i-i-i-e._"

Altaïr truly began to question the sanity of Malik since the man had never shared Vivian's awful singing and his own for standing there to hear it. Why did most of her songs involve him in humorous situations? When would they be about somebody else? If he wasn't so certain she lived to see his stoic mask break, he'd swear this was her way of saying she fancied him. Of course, the idea was preposterous and they lashed out whenever anything indecent arose (she'd exclaimed in horror when his trousers ended up in her washing bundle once). Vivian released the dai to skitter forward like a ballerina to match a dainty feminine woman and placed the back of her right hand over her forehead to continue with her song.

"_Grand Master Alti!  
Handsome is he, Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
That physique! How can I speak? _(She fanned herself with a hand)  
_Weak at the knee  
Well, get on out in that square  
Adjust your vein and prepare  
To gawk and grovel and stare at Grand Master Alti! _(She intertwined her hands to imitate a swoon)  
_  
There's no question this Alti's alluring  
Never ordinary, never boring  
Everything about the man just plain impresses  
He's a winner, he's a whiz, a wonder!  
He's about to pull my heart asunder!  
And I absolutely love the way he dresses!"_

Altaïr pointed at the clear blue sky with an outraged scowl for being the audience of their acting and dared angrily, "If you admire my work, I _order_ you beings to strike me down with lightning at once. I refuse to hear this frivolous torture!"

Malik ignored his dramatic demands as they stood on higher ground and continued, _"He's got ninety-five white Persian monkeys."_

Vivian clapped her hands giddily as she ran in small circles around the dai to portray a happy observant and sang, _"He's got the monkeys! Let's see the monkeys!"_

He stopped her short run by grabbing her shoulder and patted Vivian on the head like a child to calm her dramatization. Altaïr wanted to rip his hood off and stomp over it in anger as they viewed him like a ghost to their spectacle. Vivian's green eyes were comically large as she hopped in place and Malik smiled broadly as he went on, _"And to view them, he charges no fee."  
_

Vivian pretended to swoon as she placed a hand to her forehead and sang dreamily, _"He's generous, so generous."_

Malik raised his arm in an arc over the horizon, over the scowling hooded man below them, and declared, _"He's got assassins, he's got servants and flunkies."_

Vivian faked a military salute as she continued the next verse,  
_  
"Proud to work for him  
They bow to his whim_ (she brought her arms down to imitate praise)  
_Love serving him_ (she puckered her lips for emphasis)  
_They're just lousy with loyalty to Alti!"_

Both the dai and Vivian sang the last verse together with glee to wrap up,

"_Grand Master Alti!  
Amorous he!  
Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad  
Heard your daughter was a sight lovely to see  
And that, good people, is why he got dolled up and dropped by  
So rejoice and enjoy his famous apple pie  
With his deadly weapons and eminent forces  
With his falcons and horses  
A brass band and more  
With his forty assassins, his rafiqs, his scholars  
His birds that warble on key  
Make way for Grand Master Alti!"_

Vivian clapped her hands joyfully as the song turned out to be more fun than she originally expected and laughed, "That was fun. Now, let's try 'Perfect World'-"

Altaïr broke into a frantic run to head back to the canoe at a faster pace since he refused to hear any more of their shenanigans and Vivian called out indignantly, "Hey! You can't escape us, we're your team. . . and I have the maps!"

That didn't deter the assassin for a single second and she watched a dust cloud pick up from his hasty running. Well, that was a new escape route from her singing . . . but she couldn't help but admire his tenacity. She blinked in surprise when she saw him head over the sand dunes in an attempt to lose them and Malik scoffed under his breath, "Novice. Does he really think he can outsmart another assassin?"

"He _is_ your Grand Master" she pointed out with a small pout for being left behind and watched him fade over the sand dunes like a phantom. Hmm, the man owned that sand dune like a boss. She pointed to where the small speck of an assassin disappeared and reappeared over another adjacent dune, grinning with amusement to laugh, "Damn, he's pretty fast. Look at him go!"

"Yes, but I've lived with that man my entire life" Malik stated matter-of-factly as he lead the way towards a dune to the left and Vivian followed with hasty steps. He'd known the man for many years not to know his thought process since Altaïr dissected everything down to his teachings. He motioned to the landscape to their left that was covered in sand dunes and rocky hill to inform simply, "He always circles to the left to evade and heads to his target in a straight line once the path is clear. We'll get there faster by applying simple geometry to this area."

Vivian grinned with astonishment as his methods of a counterattack impressed her and she complimented, "Malik, my friend, you have toppled Altaïr as the best."

* * *

Altaïr's ears were pleased to hear the silence around him as the horrible music ceased after his leave. It was bad enough when she sang but now, she'd managed to snag a singing partner to follow her lead. If Malik decided to pursue this newest form of torture, Altaïr would have to tear linen strips to stuff into his ears for the entire day until nighttime from now on.

The canoe was within sight and it was a glorious thing to behold since he sought peace away from the bothersome badger. He'd allowed her to sing short songs to give her freedom as they traveled but anything longer than a minute were banned. She'd attempted a bribe by handing him a sweet cake she'd bought in one of the settlements but he'd eaten it and refused her request.

He leapt out of the way when Vivian popped out from behind with her hood drawn and was completely baffled as to _how_ she arrived there. He'd just gotten there himself! Had she used sorcery she'd hidden for the last months? The historian merely grinned mischievously as she tucked the gray fabric close to her face to conceal her features and sang,

_"I'm gonna be a mighty assassin  
So enemies beware-"_

Altaïr was dismayed and horrified- a feat for him- when Malik popped out from a trail behind her that connected to the main one that led to the canoe. How had they figured out how to beat him? Malik patted the top of her head as he moved to her side with a reprimanding stare and followed suit,

"_Well, I've never seen a seeker of justice  
With so much pompous flair."_

"I wasn't _that_ pompous" Altaïr intervened stiffly as his feathers were ruffled and he clenched his fists, sighing aloud when his hidden blade unsheathed. Honestly, he was one face palm away from stabbing himself in the leg or eye nowadays. He opened his left hand to sheathe the blade back in the gauntlet and grumbled inaudibly under his breath. Did they not see what ire they were causing? Or maybe they did and that was the entire goal. He approached the two with a firmly set glare on his face and demanded sharply, "And where did you come from?"

Vivian breached his personal space when she nudged her shoulder against his bicep and he shooed her away like a pesky bug. The woman, however, kept her off-key singing as she smiled widely to sway on the balls of her feet,

"_I'm gonna be a master of renown  
Like no assassin was before  
I'm brushing up on looking down _(she mimicked Altaïr's imposing posture and raised her nose)  
_I'm working on my leap of faith."_

Malik shook his head in feigned disappointment, drawing Altaïr's gaze immediately, and sighed dismally to sing, _"Thus far, a rather uninspiring attempt."_

"_Oh, I just can't wait to be an assassi-i-i-n"_ Vivian sang with a long drawl that almost led Altaïr to throwing her into the river to muffle her voice. Also, he would be chiding his friend about who could do the best leap of faith- which required two arms nowadays. It would be worth having his food overcooked but after bearing two songs in one day, the prize would be worth it.

Malik played the obstinate singer since he could relate to his old bitter role during his early months in 1190 as he scolded, _"You've rather a long way to go, Altaïr, if you think-"_

"_No one will tell me, 'do this'" _she intervened smugly with a catty smile as she prodded her finger at invisible people. Altair's eyes narrowed into slits when one of those pokes landed in his direction and she returned to Malik's side before he decided to butcher her like a poor hog. She remembered trying to approach a wild hare in camp that had wandered right outside of her tent once and Altaïr had pierced its neck with an arrow, leaving her horrified to the sweet moment that shifted to gore.

_"That civilian died-" _Malik continued their practiced song as he'd scribbled lines on a scrap of paper so he wouldn't forget them. Altaor stood straight with squared shoulders to the audacity that he'd ever let a civilian die on his watch- excluding the innocent man he'd killed. . .he really wanted to beat the living daylights out of his old self.

_"No one will say, 'Be there'" _she sang with a defiant frown and stomped her foot to portray the stubborn Altaïr from older days. Well, he was still hardheaded but he had become open-minded- he allowed her to travel with him rather than leaving her to rot in a street corner.

_"And your target escaped-"_ Malik sighed with shame as he shook his head and Altaïr quickly intervened aloud that he never allowed that under his watch. Of course, the two were purposely ignoring him and he clenched his fists in anger once more to release his frustration. He sighed aloud with annoyance when his hidden blade unsheathed next to his leg and opened his hand to retract it once more.

Vivian waved a careless hand towards the dai as she declared, _"No one saying, 'Stop that'."_

Altaïr marched up to the woman but she scuttled off every time he approached and he intervened with a stern voice to order, "Get in the boat."

She remained defiant to the assassin since she had Malik on her side to protect her- otherwise, she'd be on her knees seeking to live. Hopping over a rock, she skittered down the trail away from the canoe to stand behind Malik and sang cheekily, _"No one saying, 'See here'."_

"Now see here, Vivian" Altaïr demanded sharply because he _really_ wanted to get that shifty imp into the canoe but she scuttled off whenever he reached for her. Goodness, it was like chasing a chicken! In this case, he wasn't looking to hunt his supper but Vivian's singing came quite close as she kept out of his reach.

The rambunctious badger twirled once, her skirt sweeping in a graceful circle (for once), and she ran behind Malik to croon happily, _"Free to run around all day-"  
_

"That's not what an assassin does!" Altaïr snapped irately about that ridiculous idea because they were sent on missions to protect the innocent rather than dillydallied. It was why he was trying to tie her into the canoe in the first place! Vivian sighed mentally since the man lacked a sense of humor after months on the road and wished just a tiny dash of fairy dust would hit him in the face. Disney made everything look too easy.

Malik sidestepped into Altaïr's path to keep the assassin from his target as he sang innocently, _"I think it's time that you and I arranged a heart to heart."_

Vivian jumped onto a small boulder to sigh dramatically as she crossed her arms and continued stubbornly, _"Masters don't need advice from petty cartographers for a start."_

Malik wagged a finger and wrinkled his nose to carry on the next verse while Altaïr tried to sneak past him to catch the mastermind of the music. The dai, however, played a very good bodyguard as he kept the taller man at bay and his smile grew wider with each grumpy line forming on Altaïr's frown.

"_If this is where the Order is headed,  
Count me out,  
Out of service,  
Out of Syria,  
I wouldn't hang about!  
Altaïr is getting __wildly out of wing." _

"_Oh, I just can't wait to be an assa_- eek!" Vivian began to sing but Altaïr managed to trap her between a wall of rock of eroded sediment from the river. She wasn't fast enough to dodge him in a close distance and he grabbed her by the waist to lift her over his shoulder in one move. He wasn't taking any chances with the witty badger since it would take forever to catch her with Malik protecting her and he headed straight to the canoe. Vivian kicked him lightly in the hopes that it would irritate him somewhat and she frowned to mutter at the disappointing realization, "Nuts, my legs are too short to kick you in the crotch."

Just for that jab, he squeezed her midsection with the strength he used to render enemies unconscious as he carried her. Vivian felt her insides protest painfully as his arm constricted against her and she groaned with a painful squeak, "_Gah!_ You're killing my kidneys! C'mon, I sang you a song!"

"Can you sing any that _don't_ include me? Or none at all to please me?" he shot back and loosened his hold back to normal to allow her to breathe. He waved Malik away with the other since the dai was ready to warn him against injuring the woman but he wouldn't do such a thing. It took a lot for Altaïr to personally acknowledge that Vivian was becoming an annoyingly everyday part of his life but she kept him from going insane.

She clasped her hands to mimic a Disney princess and flashed a bright smile to declare sweetly, "But I sing out of love and this valley was marvelous."

He sighed exasperatedly because their ways of showing affection varied greatly and would've rather had his knives sharpened than a song. Her expression was utterly ridiculous as he glanced over his shoulder and squeezed her midsection when she started to prod his back innocently. She was trying to break his mask slowly as she tried to catch a glimpse of a normal man but he was a trained assassin and would never live that type of life. Vivian represented everything he wasn't: an average woman, optimistic, witty, and friendly. Despite all of that, their complementary personalities bonded them with the passage of time and he muttered wryly, "Woman, that voice could fell an army."

"Well, be sure to point me towards the Templars then" she chided in return with a peppy smile that brought laughter from Malik as she poked holes into Altaïr's comments. The assassin said nothing, imagining that outrageous scenario and allowed Malik to express what he couldn't.

She cried out when he dumped her unceremoniously into the canoe and ordered for her to stay put as he literally dragged the canoe into the water. Vivian quickly clung on as her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates to the man's strength and was glad she'd become fully protected under Malik's bodyguard service. Hmm, if only she could put that into a humorous business card. When Altaïr looked to Malik to follow Vivian's example of staying inside, the dai chose a passive-aggressive move by standing on the shore for more than two minutes without moving. While Vivian's eyes darted comically between the two assassins, Altaïr cursed his day to Hades (damn it, he was starting to use Vivian's jargon) as he dealt with another stubborn companion and mumbled, "Would you kindly enter the boat so we may carry on?"

"And?"

Altaïr scuffed his boot on the wet dirt since he could yell all he wanted towards Vivian but Malik wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place. The assassin hoped the two would cook a grand feast tonight after the torture he endured- still was- and muttered, "I apologize for leaving you behind-"

The dai raised his chin with defiance and decided to milk the moment by stressing, _"And?"_

"That's all you're getting" Altaïr stated stiffly because he wasn't going to be manipulated to be passive and nice like Vivian, preferring his indifference. Vivian sighed under her breath as she rested her forehead against the side of the canoe, wondering if the Apple could grant him a few socializing traits. When Malik began to whistle and walk towards the path they'd taken to the interior of the valley, the assassin relented quickly, "And for not appreciating your kindness through song."

Malik turned around as he managed to get what he wanted out of that exchange but shifted his gaze to Vivian, who held onto the boat with awe on her face to his uncanny ability. When would she be able to do that with the assassin? Altaïr looked to the petite historian as she smiled toothily at both of them and he shook his head immediately as he realized what Malik wanted. No, he would not-

"Her too."

Altaïr grit his teeth as his friend pushed his kindness to the limit that day and thinned his lips when Vivian leaned forward with an eager smile. With great reluctance, he swallowed his pride for the sake of the mission and stated tightly, "Thank you for your sentiments through song, Vivian."

"Aw, shucks" she giggled with a bashful blush and waved a dainty hand, huddling next to the canoe. Although it had been sugared to the max to please Malik and not for her benefit, Vivian was quite happy anyway. AC fans would fish for any little compliment and she was happy with the morsels.

The dai appeared pleased and entered the boat as Altaïr's shoulders slumped for the multiple favors he'd granted that day. What was he, a mother of three women and ready to give a dowry? He was not made to be soft and sweet, leaving that job for Vivian since she never hesitated to help. When he entered the canoe, she'd already grabbed a paddle to resume their travels and he softened- just a little- that Vivian could've been worse as a traveler. She wasn't high to maintain, rude, immature, annoyingly loud (well, the songs came from a good place in her heart), or prone to anger so he'd lucked out in a way.

Vivian happily paddled to begin rowing to show her appreciation for the side trip because he didn't have to do so but did. It was a kind gesture on his part and she would gladly work to repay him by rowing . . . maybe even cooking a stew since he liked them. The current fought against her strength as they flowed upstream to find camp further inland and she grinned broadly to sing, _"Paddling on to adventure down the Nile! With Altaïr, the assassin, and Malik, the dai- c'mon, it adventure time!"_

"Vivian" Altaïr warned with reprimand since he wasn't in the mood for anymore witty songs and raised his paddle to emphasize he wasn't above whacking her.

"There's no living human out here _but_ us" Vivian pointed out cheekily to break apart his argument since they were in the empty wilderness and isolated from society. They could've taken trade routes with caravans to blend with traveling scholars or explorers but Altaïr chose the faster route of water. She smiled sincerely since they would be each other's company and stated easily, "Face it, we're all we have for the next . . . I don't know, year or so, and I'm sure Sudan won't be quick to cross over. I don't want to die of boredom before we get there, I like living."

"Maybe I'll learn how to tune you out" Altaïr stated flatly because he would have eternal relief at that point. . .that, or go completely deaf at the young age of twenty-six.

"Or adapt to my nonsensical ramblings and join me" she grinned goofily and wrinkled her nose as she leaned forward to laugh impishly.

"No, where will my entertainment go?" Malik teased playfully since their platonic antics brought him amusement unless they decided to roll throughout camp and cause damage to his tent. It would've been boring to travel with Altaïr since the brotherhood or those eerie items were all he spoke about so Vivian had been a welcome fresh face to their group. He could only imagine how lonely and tedious it would be if she truly departed at this 'Madagascar' while they'd head to the south alone.

"Exactly, we _have_ to do this for Malik- who can say no to that face?" she nodded encouragingly with an innocent pucker of her lower lip and he growled at being manipulated. She raised the oar to point at the dai, who merely smiled mischievously at the change to rile Altaïr, and the assassin wondered if it was too late to find those caravans. Vivian continued rowing to maintain their speed and called over with a perky voice, "Don't be so glum, chum-"

"All right but no more rhyming" Altaïr ordered hastily as that little quirk of hers irked him the most when she sang or teased him. She was rambunctious during the mornings but by the evening, her energy was gone and her demeanor changed as she took interest in his hobbies. When he wrote his journal entries, they would converse about history or weapon maintenance- an entirely different variation of conversation that was currently took place.

Vivian blinked innocently and raised her paddle horizontally in the air to gasp dramatically, "Not even for your theme song? You actually _like_ that one."

Well, maybe he could make _one_ exception.

* * *

_In Masyaf, Syria. . ._

"I demand an audience with you, Ilias!" a sharp demanding voice called out from the entrance of the grand master's library where scholars wandered about.

The assassin currently in charge sighed between his lips and ran a hand through his hair underneath the white hood. Why hadn't he sent the man on a mission? It would've been better than having him prowling the grounds like a coyote ready to strike with any slander against their leader.

Abbas had quickly forgotten Altaïr's kindness at keeping him alive after pushing him off a hillside. Since Maria began living amongst them, the man kept trying to find the tiniest reason or opportunity to cast her out and prove Altaïr wrong for trusting her. Bashir kept an eye on her but she'd quickly seen through his tactics when he glanced away every time she caught him. After an apology, she and Bashir formed a friendship as the two were outsiders in a way since the young man preferred working in the quiet fortress rather than bustling cities for assassinations.

As for Maria herself, she stayed within Masyaf most of the time and often spent her time within the library where Ilias ran the brotherhood. Although pregnant, she didn't mind helping maintain weapons for recruits and teach them a few tricks she'd learned along the way. She had found safe refuge for her child and wasn't about to allow a zealous man ruin it for her with false accusations. She confided in Ilias about her worries since he allowed her stay and today was another as she'd been speaking to him when Abbas arrived.

"If it is about Maria, she has been here the whole time" Ilias stated calmly as he stood from his desk to meet the irritated assassin and Abbas glared heatedly at Maria. The woman merely crossed her arms and took fascination with Rafiki's stand as the falcon flew somewhere around Masyaf.

He waved an indignant hand towards her since he didn't hesitate to hide his distaste for the enemy and accused, "Two of our shipments have been delayed! How do I know she hasn't been sending messages outside Masyaf?"

"As if my current condition isn't enough, need I mention the fact I am escorted everywhere when I wander the village below?" Maria replied tightly since the man tested her patience and the flux of hormones further incensed the pregnant woman. Did he really think she'd be stupid to return to the Templars? Honestly! She shook her head to his irrational accusations and stated sarcastically, "Well, since you're so eager to slander me without proof, what else will you say? I've sneaked out to beat down the elderly, sprouted wings to plague the dreams of the assassins, or tainted the water supply which I also use?"

Abbas resembled the shade of a pomegranate and Ilias stood between the two to say calmly, "Delays happen in the road and this isn't the first time. Until there is proof to any of your accusations, I will launch an investigation. We have acquired a new ally, Abbas, and it would be wise to see it through that perspective."

Basically, Maria won this round.

Abbas grit his teeth in fury as he was denied casting the woman outside their walls and stomped off to return to his duties. He would show his order that they held an enemy in their midst because Templars never changed. Maria simply uncrossed her arms as relief flickered over her porcelain face and nodded to Ilias in gratitude for siding with her. He didn't have to since the other man knew him longer but he had.

"He infuriates me, acting above his station when Altaïr left you in charge" Maria stated quietly with a curt tone since deflecting the man's accusations had become her newest pastime. Yes, she understood the assassin's initial mistrust of her for being an ex-Templar but she wasn't with them anymore. She was fighting for the right cause now and being a mother doubled her resolve, preparing for the future of her child is what came first. The fight against the Templars would always be in her mind but the assassin's order could take care of it and in her state, she'd more than likely hinder them. A waddling fighter with swollen feet would bring laughter from her enemies rather than striking fear.

Ilias understood her viewpoint but pointed out simply as he returned to his desk, "We are all of equal rank when we're master assassins but Abbas. . .his changing demeanor troubles me at times."

"I won't bring harm to your order but all I can offer you is my world and life" Maria insisted earnestly with all that she had tied to her name and couldn't help but feel like a worn out book. She'd said it so much that it became embedded in her mind. She didn't interact much with the assassins, keeping to the areas where women informants were allowed but their interests didn't match hers. Where could she find a female friend that shared the same wanderlust for adventure and wouldn't bend under the thumb of a man?

So far, her only real friends were Ilias and Bashir but she was thankful for them nonetheless. Bashir reminded her of older times when she'd had a brother to tag along beside her and she didn't hesitate to visit the inventor in his solitary room. It took her about an hour to get up there with frequent breaks due to her child but it was worth the trip. As for Ilias, he kept trying to break her out of her defensive shell but in an entirely different approach than Altaïr. While the grand master had repeatedly insisted she could trust him and proved himself, Ilias didn't do anything at all! Instead, he offered conversation whenever they met or when she felt comfortable in approaching him. He'd given her the space she needed to gather her bearings and she was slowly seeking him out with any questions she had- no matter how trivial. Altaïr always tended to prod for answers but Ilias was quietly contemplative.

"Don't add extra worry to yourself, he will adjust and _I_ trust you" he assured calmly about his opinion on the matter and she nodded quietly, glad that he didn't see her as an outsider anymore. It brought the faintest smile on her round face, smoothing her features since it had been a while that anything besides a frown or glare appeared.

"Do you think he could pose a problem one day?" she asked tentatively since it was strictly assassin business but if her mind worried, then she was going to be open with it. She wanted a safe place to live and would provide peace on her part but she wasn't about to endanger her child.

"As long as he completes his missions and follows the creed, I will not pry into his business" Ilias remarked softly since everyone carried their demons but lashing out at their brotherhood wouldn't help anyone. If it did and he broke their tenets, Abbas would be cast out and Ilias would explain everything to Altaïr. His leader had been the better man in allowing his stay inside Masyaf but if he continued on a path to oust Altaïr, and now Maria, he would do what was best for their order.

Maria wasn't convinced that Abbas would turn tame like a butterfly and pointed out, "His underlying anger could jeopardize his cover."

"You worry too much, upcoming motherhood requires relaxation" he mused with a small smile and pointed to the outside gardens located to the west but she frowned. Yes, she enjoyed the calming peace nowadays but that didn't mean it had to relate to her pregnancy. Truly, did men think women would turn hysterical at any moment?

"My pregnancy hasn't lessened my vigilance" she stated firmly and leaned over to grab the books she'd borrowed for the week. A solitary area would allow Abbas' scathing words to roll off her back and her child tended to kick at this hour of the day as they decided to dance for fun with her insides. It reinforced the idea that motherhood was imminent but she didn't know where Altaïr would fit in the overall picture. He was a good man and had the potential to be a father (despite their turbulent times) but she wouldn't be hitching to be married simply to avoid social shame. Nobody knew her outside of Masyaf and she could simply fake being a widow to begin a new life. She began descending the steps that led to Ilias' desk but stopped on the second to turn around and inform, "That reminds me, you're almost out of eggs. The hens haven't been laying any for the past two days."

"You've been checking on the hens?" he asked amusingly since recruits but mostly children tended to livestock that they kept inside Masyaf.

A pink hue crossed her pale cheeks as she was caught spending time with animals and she deflected hastily, "Only because their noise made me believe they were being attacked, that is all. I am _not_ becoming anchored to a home."

"I didn't say you were" he stated with a smile on his lips that unnerved her to the implication because she didn't want to tend to a home for the rest of her life. She wanted to show her child the world and prepare them for survival in case she couldn't be there for them one day. She didn't know if she could ever provide them with a stable home but she would try her best. Ilias understood that she was struggling with her identity as a new role surfaced in her life and he advised gently, "There are always two sides to a coin, Maria. A home doesn't necessarily mean a prison."

How did he . . .?

She excused herself quickly to avoid further analyzing as she left Ilias behind with an amused expression on his face. He could see why Altaïr had quite the tough time convincing her to their side but she had a warrior's spirit and a good heart- it simply didn't want to have vulnerabilities. Maria, however, couldn't believe he'd seen right through her defense and wondered just how perceptive the man was. After all, Altaïr did leave him in charge for a reason and the grand master was wise in his own right. Ilias' serene demeanor was a change from what she'd experienced with others and she felt that glass house around her heart slowly growing a hairline fracture that needed to be remedied. Those hens would just have to find another person to . . . no, she couldn't do that to them and cursed herself for growing attached to livestock of all things! Maria's flustered face softened as she descended the stairs but a smile popped onto her face when she witnessed. . .

"Go away, you blasted bird!" Abbas screeched madly as Rafiki had decided to claw at his eyes for the day. The man had dared to shoo him away from the balcony stand that oversaw the training grounds and that was a humongous insult in his avian book. The bird's furious screeching echoed through the entrance as the man batted the falcon away but Rafiki was agile enough to bypass the swats.

Up ahead, Bashir covered the huge grin on his face at realizing Rafiki had now found his newest scratching post.

* * *

_In Esna, Egypt. . ._

Altaïr stared at the Ankh that he'd recovered from Giza as he'd been meditating with the item to gauge its power in comparison to the Apple. Both were strong in their own right as Vivian stated they subdued humankind into slavery without much effort and Altaïr wondered what made them do so. If he could hold it so easily without crying out in pain while others like Abbas could die. . .how would it benefit the Templars? If his bloodline carried the blood of those ancient beings, wouldn't his enemies need individuals of his descent to wield them? The idea of having grandchildren that could be converted into the Templar cause was frightening.

Whenever he glimpsed into the Apple, he could see brief flashes of memories of the past and the technology of cities matched those similar to Vivian. If those beings had been highly advanced to surpass even Vivian's time, what could his descendants do to stop a catastrophic event? Within the Ankh, he felt a similar protective aura but while the Apple carried destructive power . . . this one varied. He didn't understand it quite yet but he would continue his meditations since the newest item failed to draw his energy in comparison to the apple. If anything, he almost felt . . . invigorated.

The strange item bathed his camp in a golden glow as he'd decided to tinker with it after dinner since food and the quiet of night brought tranquility. His two companions sat across at a safe distance as they ate a healthy salad they'd picked from bushes in the nearest fertile area they'd passed that day. It wasn't a good feeling to harvest food that had been cultivated but others but Vivian reminded them it was for a good cause to save the world. If they were rich Templars, sure, they'd buy their food every time they stumbled into a village. . .but they weren't and were piss poor.

Altaïr opened his eyes to find his friends chewing quietly while looking over a map splayed over a log bench and he asked incredulously, "You're eating more without me?"

"We were bored and I made you one, don't worry" Vivian reassured with an amused smile as she'd added extra cucumbers into his since he fancied the vegetable. She pointed towards a wooden plate on the log that lay covered with a cloth napkin to protect it from pesky bugs. She nodded towards the glowing item in his hand as its brightness hurt her eyes and she informed quickly, "You can have it as soon as you put that away. Man, I can totally see why people thought those beings were holy- geez, that is bright!"

Altaïr found that interesting because although he saw the light bright as well, the intensity lacked in irritating his vision. While Malik and Vivian felt as if they were staring straight into the sun, Altaïr wasn't affected in the slightest as he merely saw the shift in lighting as natural as normal daylight.

"Well, if you ever need a quick getaway, shining it into people's eyes will help" Vivian joked with a soft laugh since the light was incredibly brilliant from her own end across camp. She glanced away from her companion as her eyes stung and tears threatened to form, leading her to cover her eyes. Malik simply used his sleeve to block out the light but it only increased in magnitude when Altaïr stood up to walk towards a boulder across from them. Vivian squeezed her eyes shut and raised one hand to comment with irritancy, "Jeez, that is hurting my corneas! If this is how they made mankind submit, I believe it."

Malik agreed with a hasty nod to stop Altaïr from moving closer and raised his hand to request, "Please put it away, it is literally _blinding_ me by the second!"

Altaïr smirked to their complaints (again, he felt nothing) but heeded their words as he placed the Ankh back inside the cloth bag for safekeeping. He was always a strict man on order and honor but his time with Vivian was slowly becoming infectious to the outer layers of his personality. Both she and Malik groaned in protest when he showed a small portion of the artifact before shutting it away completely. He'd never been a humorous man but maybe. . .it was time to incorporate a few pieces here and there into his life.

"_Ow!"_

"It was not done by me but _through_ me" Malik stated simply after smacking the man upside the head for his little joke since he wasn't particularly fond of temporary blindness. Altaïr rubbed the top of his head like a scolded child as the dai returned to studying his map of Egypt while trying to blink away the starbursts inside his vision. If he started seeing double, he'd topple Altaïr's tent on top of him and make him sleep outside for the night.

Altaïr was ready to stomp his boot over the dai's for being reprimanded for his first joke when Vivian rubbed the top of his hooded head to soothe his newest boo-boo. Right, he'd forgotten she boasted about having caretaking skills and she coddled almost anything that needed help. He wanted to shoo her away for daring to break his personal space but torn because . . . well, it felt nice to be fussed over. Immediately, he frowned to that newest thought popping into his 'independent Altaïr' frame of mind and mumbled flatly, "I wonder if the items can conjure new partners for this adventure."

"We've kept you alive as much as you have us" Vivian insisted in regards to her usefulness and removed her hand from his head to return to Malik's side on the floor. Altaïr waved a dismissive hand as he headed for his tent to remove his leather belt to remove some of the weight on his body. The robes already felt heavy with the growing humidity and hoped his weapons wouldn't rust faster with the moisture in the air. He narrowed his eyes at Vivian since she'd boldly peeked into the tent since he failed to close the flap and she smiled impishly with that crafty glitter in her green eyes.

For the first time, he felt the slightest inkling that he was being watched by a predator as she peeked over the wooden log like a cheetah. She tilted her head to the side as he exited the tent to sit next Malik (it felt safer) and Vivian stated matter-of-factly, "You're stuck with us whether you like it or not because we're seeing this through to the end, buddy," she paused for a moment and corrected herself, "Well, _Desmond_ will see it through so make sure to give good cryptic notes but not to the extreme like these beings. I feel like I'm trying to put together a Sudoku in another language based in another time period!"

She raised her index finger into the air as her neurons farted a humorous fact and declared wittily with a wide grin, "Besides, could any new follower do this?"

"If you sing, I swear-" he began swiftly because her singing hours were during daytime when it was most bearable and forbidden after sundown. If she dared, he'd gag her with a cloth and throw her in her tent to be rid of her for the night.

"No, dingus, I meant this" she shot back sarcastically and stood up to perform the popular moonwalk dance move that awed masses in the 1980s. Malik showed interest to the new maneuver while Altaïr returned a deadpan stare because he was no importance or entertainment in it. How would that help him on missions? As always, the historian improvised her suggestion to draw the audience's eye with a few more moves that did nothing to sway his response. She shook her hands and body in ways Altaïr had never seen (not that he'd seen many women dancers in his time) and she declared aloud for feedback, "How about the Monkey? The Running Man?"

"Dancing is more liable to kill you, Vivian" the assassin stated flatly since he'd ban dancing in his group if he could because he saw no interest in it. Vivian balked at his horrible comment since dancing was quite healthy for the body and wondered if he was as lousy a dancer as he was a swimmer. With Altaïr, anything was possible. He pointed to the log bench to keep her rooted to the floor, away from any further shenanigans, and ordered swiftly, "And secondly, sit down before I call sorcery on that."

She shook her hands in fists to show her objection but obeyed, tired from her small show after walking all day. Her leather shoes would have to last the entire trip to Sudan so she'd best take care of them well, wishing she had nice boots like Altaïr and Malik. Why couldn't women have nice boots without being hassled about propriety? She leaned against the wooden log with a mischievous smirk, the glowing crackling campfire brightening her eyes as she pointed towards his nose and declared madly, "A-hah! What followers could fake sorcery to gullible enemies? Come Malik, I will teach you the basics and then you'll reteach _me_ the basics because I'm liable to forget."

Altaïr was ready to face palm into both hands to her horrible suggestion because enemies would not fear cheap sorcery skills. He could only wonder how the rest of her family was like if Vivian was a perky puppy that failed to lose energy. Vivian yelped in horror and grasped his left hand with worry before he could bury his face into it to chastise firmly, "Are you insane? That gauntlet is still on, you're about to assassinate _yourself_!"

"It would be a better solution than hearing this entire meaningless dribble!" he shot back as his brows furrowed with embarrassment for the accidental slip and scowled at the woman. It wasn't her fault directly but there were times he wanted to bury his head into the sand.

"On second thought, have at it" she muttered wryly to his fussiness but helped him remove the gauntlet for the night, ignoring his inaudible grumbling. She wanted her leader to live to nag another day and carefully loosened the lowest strap on the gauntlet over his forearm. After months of travel, she'd become accustomed to watching him remove the dangerous weapon and maintain it in perfect condition.

Malik watched the two fiddle with the gauntlet to remove it, finding their verbal tug-of-war amusing and drawled with amusement, "If you two are done bickering-"

"We're not bickering" Altaïr defended quickly with thinned lips and gently swatted her hands away so he could finish the rest. If he truly was bickering, Vivian would be furious and he'd be searching for a decent apology. When he traveled with Maria, she tended to beat him down to vent her anger and carried on fresh as a flower afterwards as she protected her emotions. Vivian, however, was the complete opposite as she held her emotions on her sleeve and her respect for him (not to mention weak striking strength) kept her from lashing out.

He liked Vivian as a traveling companion, not that he'd ever admit it, since she sought easy compromises to accommodate any arising conflicts. Also, she tended to coddle over him in the oddest of ways but he attributed it to her care over her younger siblings. Case in point. . .

"Eat your salad or you'll have a stomach ache when you go to sleep" she chastised gently to get him moving since he'd been studying the POE for over an hour. Altaïr flicked the top of her forehead with his middle finger and she balked for a few moments before grinning with amusement to his action. He grabbed the wooden plate to dig into the fresh food they'd found and picked off all of the cucumbers first before eating the rest.

* * *

**A/N**: I would _love_ to write a laughing Altaïr one day- not a low chuckle but a boisterous laugh that would knock the socks off both Malik and Vivian. Dancing Vivian seems even more hilarious to me since she uses outdated moves of our time to impress the assassins and fails horribly. Somehow, I can imagine Altaïr banning dancing from the brotherhood. The trio finally reaches Sudan in the next chapter as they live out in the wild, hunting food as Altaïr plays Survivorman and nagging her when they have to get haircuts. They'll reach a settlement also as they find leads on the Templars and as Vivian puts it 'Templars and brothels will scar your mind'. Aside from my current AC story, I decided to make a Connor/OC fic focused on Davenport Homestead since colonial and prairie life interests me with its wild frontier. As always, I've been researching the time frame and am slowly finding myself loving my new revolution era character but Vivian always takes the cake with her humor.

Thank you for the endless support on my story, I love hearing from my readers after every chapter (and old chapters):

_WhatTheCensoredXD_: The game has always been quite serious and I thought using a humorous Vivian in the tale would lighten it better than a serious one. That's not to say she won't have her own character development as the story flows but yes, she's quite something.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: True, you'd think Altaïr would be flexible to go with the flow but I see him as unyielding with new things and totally respect his honesty. Altaïr can handle one minute songs at the most from Vivian but anything past that has him ready to face palm himself into assassination. I claim success when I can make readers sing the parody lyrics aloud and hope you enjoyed the two. I _can't_ wait to use Perfect World:  
_  
He's the sovereign mentor of the Assassin nation  
He's the sternest dude in creation  
He's a hep cat in the grand master's new clothes  
Years of such selective breeding  
Generations of Adam have been leading  
To this miracle of life that we all know_

_What's his name?  
Altaïr, Altaïr, Altaïr..._

_TurtleFeathers_: I'm glad I could help you with this between studies.

_Sachikothepeacock_: I hope the entire Disney songs in this chapter didn't make you pop your sides. Lol

_ihas no clue_: Poor Vivian does deserve a sweet treat after everything she endures and dishes out. Altaïr, however, was not amused in the slightest and pretty much dragged her into the canoe. Maybe one day he'll carry her in the princess style instead of the fireman way. lol

_KrnYong_: I'm glad I could make you laugh for finals, we all need some of that. The time frame and her boldness clash but she knows how to use it to make him flustered. For some reason, I imagine him using the scientific method to uncover 'love'. He's slowly melting like an iceberg with Vivian as they continue interacting and yes, he'll be fussy when she does teach him to swim- mostly because Malik will be there swimming circles around him.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Vivian's 5 Lessons For Adventurers_

"I'm sure there won't be many Templars, you're acting like it's infested by zombies" Vivian chuckled amusingly to his suspicion since it was already on high alert and they'd yet to reach the settlement. She'd keep her eyes open, of course, but she expected traders to be the majority of visitors since it lay in the path of the Silk Road. After the asskicking they received in Giza, she doubted great numbers could be at their distance already since Amon and the assassins would keep them at bay at Giza.

"Zoom-bees?" he asked with confusion to her strange jargon and she sighed morosely as they hit another time roadblock. No, his mind had been denied the knowledge of fearsome zombies and hilarious films like Zombieland or the Walking Dead comics. Her shoulders slumped since fearsome zombies would always be a fear for her but it had quickly been replaced as number one by evil Templars bent on killing her and her friends.

"Fictional creatures of my realm that eat humans since they're dead humans themselves" she explained casually and watched his face contort to horror to what she was telling him. Even Malik faltered for a moment in his steps since the idea was terrifying and wished she hadn't said that!

"What kind of foul things go on in your time?" he blurted with disgust and she laughed to his shocked expression. She found herself torn between smiling and frowning as his jabs about her time but agreed towards where society headed. For a moment, she was glad to be in 1190s where she didn't have to worry about terrorism, death by gun wielding maniacs (stab wounds were survivable at least), or being run over by a car.

"Just for that, I will create a _horrid_ Mary Sue story with you" she declared airily as she feigned insult and cleared her throat to begin her tale. Altaïr often heard her talking to Malik about stories she'd read through the years that focused on him but nowadays, most flocked towards his Italian descendant. She had gushed about several that maintained good historical accuracy but there were others that caused her to curl into a ball. She had deemed the latter 'Mary Sue's that we boo' and Altaïr wasn't eager to hear one, walking faster when she began dramatically, "The modern day teenage girl was sucked from her Assassin's Creed game into the game itself-"

"That's _your_ story" he preened with a smirk to tease her about her arrival and she hissed like a kitten for being pinned with that.

"I got bonked on the head and fell unconscious, I didn't get sucked in through a magical wormhole!" she corrected indignantly since she was thankful the television hadn't crushed her when she'd fallen and he laughed to the pink on her cheeks. There was no way she would tell him _what_ bonked her on the head to avoid that awkward topic. Malik couldn't help but laugh besides her since her entryway to their world matched her curious personality and hoped nothing else fell on her as she continued down the road for home. She wagged a finger towards Altaïr to further explain her arrival as she added in matter-of-factly, "And I landed months _after_ your mission ended and I'm still in the dark about the science behind it. Stuff like this _shouldn't_ happen- it defies the laws of science!"

Shaking her hand to dismiss her small rant, Altaïr snorted in amusement and she continued with a cheesy smile, "Anyway, Peggy Sue Suzuki was a beauty of renown but yet she thought herself simple as all men mysteriously fell in love with her quickly. Everyone hated her but she didn't know why since she was the gentlest soul in the world. She landed in the same city as Altaïr as he underwent a mission and was fatefully rescued from evil Templars by the heroic man-"

He directed another knowing look at the last comment and she pointed out, "Hey, I took refuge in a smelly bale of hay to avoid guards. Besides, you weren't dashing and awe-inspiring at all when you shook me like a rag doll- people die from that, you know. I was still under the impression it was all fake from that hit to the head at home but I didn't blow into your life story nor was I super kawaii happy to be with you. This is how most of the stories happen, okay? Don't blame me, blame your awesomeness."

Malik snickered behind his hand as he took pity on the man for being groveled over in written format and Vivian went on with her dramatic voice, "Where he took her to the bureau and she proceeded to tell him the entire storyline, telling herself that she wasn't changing anything, but was doing by telling him in the first place! Altaïr forced her along on his missions despite she knew nothing of fighting but yet, to his astonishment, the modern day girl managed to learn in mere weeks what he had in years. It was mind numbingly astonishing!"

Altaïr shot her another knowing look that were starting to poke her in the wrong way and Vivian defended with a flustered face, "I pleaded to go with you so I wouldn't die out here and I haven't learned how to fight at all. . .but I _can_ crush bugs."

"Vivian, that's not a skill" Malik stated gently with dismay to the pride in her voice since she was as innocent as people came. The historian had clearly told them she had no desire to learn free running for fear of cracking her skull open or becoming paste on a street. For the time being, Vivian, would be a defensive fighter rather than an offensive like he and Altaïr. He patted the top of her head like a sympathetic father that had eaten a sour piece of bread but wanted to encourage his child onwards.

Altaïr, however, smirked with amusement and trapped a chuckle in his throat that actually threatened to break free. Vivian's lower lip puckered in a pout since there were some pretty big bugs around and resumed her tale, "Even Peggy Sue's free running surprised him and he had _no_ choice but to induct her into the assassin's order without having her go through the tiers. Of course, nobody complained because Peggy Sue was loved by all despite her constant saying that everyone hated her. Altaïr couldn't believe his luck in finding the girl and although her personality contradicted itself multiple times, he found himself falling into those purple eyes that made no sense biologically and wanted to run his fingers in her outlandish pink hair that would have anyone calling her a sorceress but no- Peggy Sue ensnared them all, even Malik."

"Wait, what?!" he demanded with shock to the story because he didn't want to be in those types of stories at all and she laughed aloud to his horrified expression. Altaïr was just about ready to turn green from the invisible lemon he'd eaten and could never imagine doing such a thing. Why would he ever induct a person into the order without _years_ of preparation?

"Oh yes, Peggy Sue managed to make Malik love her and couldn't bear the thought of choosing between the two men so she kept both despite the law and stigma" Vivian continued with a longing voice because there were crazy stories out there that she'd found or her sister screamed about and curled into a ball. Altaïr and Malik eyed each other uncomfortably since they'd never fight over the same woman after overcoming the conflict of the aftermath in Solomon's Temple. They'd rather take a peaceful compromise but they wouldn't share a woman; it was preposterous! Vivian placed a hand over her forehead to sigh with yearning and declared aloud with feigned woe, "Poor brave Maria stood no chance against the flawless Peggy Sue as she'd continuously called the Templar evil and refused to let Altaïr work with her. She blocked all chances for the two to form a relationship but what could Maria do against this foul temptress that defied time? The woman had somehow become a Master already and was advising Altaïr on his decisions! Peggy Sue insisted that Altaïr's life would be fine without her and she'd become the new mother to his spawn but wait!"

Altaïr resisted sighing when she spread her arms dramatically to resemble a bird and resisted from pushing her over. Her story was killing him on the inside to the outlandish characterization of his personality and Vivian lowered her voice to continue, "Somehow, she managed to get hold of a POE and without warning, she was blasted into Ezio's time where she mourned the loss of her beloved Altaïr. Why, oh, why was she taken away from her beloved-"

"I'm going to be sick" the assassin groaned to the horrible idea of falling in love with someone whose sole purpose was to bed him. Malik nodded in agreement and ran a hand through his hair to settle the awful taste in his mouth because he wanted a humble woman- not one that would fly at his friend to have carnal relations.

"Oh, how she cried beautiful rivers of tears . . . but yet she managed to become Ezio's sidekick when she told him of her plight" Vivian feigned crocodile tears as she pretended to wipe them and struggled not to laugh at her shoddy acting. Altaïr hoped the sun would induce unconsciousness as they walked while Vivian set her lips in a firm pout and went on, "It was mandatory for her to treat him badly and call him 'baka, you bastardo' because somehow, she'd learned Italian and Japanese in her old life- not to mention Arabic! All at the age of five because she was smarter than the average bear! In the end, she cast aside Altaïr and became Ezio's girlfriend when they could no longer deny this incredible ardent love that defied the ages . . . which sprouted within two days."

Altaïr decided to pick up the pace because the woman she'd conjured was horrible in all aspects and he'd never condone cheating. Vivian, a pesky little imp as always, hastened her steps as her voice echoed through the clearing, "That's right, _two_ days. When she finally managed to return to the 1190s, Peggy Sue was happy to find Altaïr in Malik's arms and told them it was all for the best. Apparently, this was her plan all along- despite Altaïr had NO heir now because of her! With her magic POE, she somehow landed in Abstergo's Templar clutches and was conveniently rescued when Desmond made his escape with Lucy. Who knows how Desmond managed to exist because Altaïr died childless since men _can't_ procreate in that era! Of course, she didn't like this Lucy right away because she simply talked to the man and taught Desmond herself with her arsenal of powers-"

Altaïr made true on his word and ran to the nearest bush to cough up their breakfast, just like many fans that had read really _really_ bad fan fiction. Vivian winced since she'd never expected it to have that effect and wished she had a computer to make a gif to email faithfully accurate AC fans. She scuttled over to her leader and gently ran circles over his back to help his stomach settle, informing helpfully, "If it helps, it's mostly teenage girls and a small percentage of the overall fanbase."

Malik wanted to douse his head with cold water for that awful story and laughed when Altaïr seized Vivian by the head, parting her hair to demand madly, "Is your hair naturally black? How old are you? What year are you from? Have you ever met anyone from my family line? For the sake of science, _tell_ me!"

"Yes, 21, 2009, and no" she answered calmly with an amused expression and rubbed his back to quiet the turbulence she caused in his stomach. It turned out that he did bottle up his emotions until they exploded to the surface in similarity to a volcano. She hushed his fretting over what existed in her time since he'd been spared a lot and soothed gently, "There, there, and I still haven't told you about Mary Sue the vampire shape-shifting girl with wings that has a human form and an animal. . . . weird mythological creature form. Or Betty Sue, the girl who's actually from your time but her family was killed by Templars for no logical reason since they weren't even related to assassins. Yet, she was able to survive to carry out revenge and somehow finds you so you can train her to avenge her family. She becomes a master fantastically fast within two weeks despite having no previous training and falls in love with you because you're too bombastically awesome."

"I'm. . .you're not allowed to talk anymore" he ordered sharply to silence the illogical words leaving her mouth and jabbed a warning finger in her direction. She made a zipping motion over her mouth and nodded quietly to prevent another barfing session.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and please drop a review for poor Altaïr who is probably partially deaf now. And if you're interested in a new Connor/OC fic focusing on Homestead, check out my new story 'Color The Sky'. :)**


	28. Vivian's Five Rules For Adventurers

**Music Inspiration**: Jesper Kyd- _'The Wounded Eagle'_ (The piece sounded _too_ perfect for this chapter)

* * *

**Vivian's Five Rules For Adventurers  
**

* * *

Five months had passed by for the arduous travelers and in that time, Altaïr had received decent correspondence from the settlements alongside the Nile. Amon had turned out to be quite the valuable informant as he played liaison between both orders and they'd flushed out all Templars from Lower Egypt. Unfortunately, Altaïr had to call an end to the letters for both their safeties a month prior since long distance travel would hinder the messengers and could allow sensitive material to fall into the wrong hands. He'd sent his best wishes to everyone, encouraged Ilias to keep doing what he thought was best for the brotherhood, and promised to keep himself safe. As for Maria, he assured he would return to see their child (although he'd miss the birth) and to keep themselves safe as he allowed her to make the decisions due to his absence. He felt like a lousy father already since he was on another continent entirely but what could he do? He couldn't exactly run back when he had an entire continent to cover and Malik couldn't do what he was able to with the foreign temples or activate pieces of Eden- well, not without dying, anyway.

Since then, the trio had been traveling nonstop by water since the Nile River would lead them straight into Lake Victoria (bordering Uganda and Kenya). Altaïr never imagined himself traveling to such untamed land and undeveloped societies as they kept away from the trade routes in case of Templars and found himself humbled by it. Who else could have such a privilege at his age? Most men were either working or supporting a family but here he was, hundreds of miles away from his Syrian homeland. The only life he'd ever known was being an assassin and he would do all he could to maintain his order for future generations by finding answers to the artifacts he wielded.

Although the new land and weather patterns were different, he couldn't complain too much since his company lightened the mood. He had slowly grown immune to Vivian's rhyming as the passage of time allowed him to assimilate the witty badger as a regular part of his life. Otherwise, he would've smacked himself unconscious with an oar every time she opened her mouth. Malik had begun fiddling with the idea of a prosthetic for his missing arm after seeing a few people in Egypt donning a few on their feet or hands. Altaïr stated that the dai seemed perfectly fine without an arm and this led to both Malik and Vivian chucking twigs at him for saying so (apparently, his tone could use help). There were moments in his travel when he felt true fellowship with his two companions, especially when. . .

"Altaïr, I highly doubt you can fish with your bare hands" Vivian called out as she sat at the edge of a river's stream and rinsed a few items of clothing in a bowl. Malik had decided to stay in camp to enjoy peace and quiet (it was a monumental change without the two) while she set out to wash laundry, followed by an assassin eager to hunt lunch. Decent game lacked in the current area as they were surrounded in dense forest as the terrain changed the deeper they headed towards Sudan.

Vivian wringed a gray skirt in her hands to shake out droplets to make sure soap didn't linger or white patches would surface once dry. Sunlight peeked through the trees around the river as the freshwater sparkled and reflected against Altaïr's bare legs as he'd hiked his trousers to the knee. Vivian had made a few whistling catcalls at seeing his legs for the first time, ruggedly manly in her eyes but he'd silenced her by hurling pebbles in her direction. He'd decided that catching prey with his bare hands would be easier than pointing a bow or knife at fish but Vivian was skeptical to believe. The man was amazing in skills already but he was no Survivorman as of yet since everything he caught implemented the use of weapons. She kneeled to shake the skirt once more and placed it over the grass to allow it to dry under the sun, smiling cheekily, "You're fast but not inhumanely fast like a bear."

He quieted her with a hush since the water had to be free of noises as he blended flawlessly into the environment and watched the clear water with a calculating eye. He hadn't caught anything for the last half hour but that didn't deter him since they needed food for lunch. He didn't want to eat rabbit every day and wanted a change of pace before his taste bud died from too much hare. Vivian glanced at the determined man and smiled to herself as he briefly reminded her of a wild man, his body tense with dexterous muscles as he leaned forward with a predatory gleam in his eye. She lamented the poor fish that would land in his grip. . .or applaud those that escaped dangerous hands. Many Templars and animals weren't so lucky.

Vivian simply kept rinsing the batch of clothes and peered into the white cloth in her wet hands to inform, "You ripped your sleeping tunic when you ran from that bat two nights ago. I'll sew up the tear in the sleeve for you later."

"I didn't run, I escaped . . . and be quiet" Altaïr shot back hastily with a defensive tone because he _never_ ran, merely adjusted his method of attack. Vivian and Malik had shared that eerie mutual stare of understanding when he claimed so after a bat managed to fly into their camp. It wasn't his fault; he'd never expected a black ball of fuzz to fly in without warning! While Malik jumped back in surprise and Vivian stared in curiosity, Altaïr had literally pushed his way past them to escape the camp entirely. In his defense, he was caught unaware and left the area to _regroup_ but the others wondered if Altaïr finally found the only animal he wouldn't tangle with.

Vivian became quiet to let him work, finding humor in their activities as they resembled prairie folk. Just as he finished quieting Vivian, a small shadow lurked in the water between his legs as the crystal clear stream allowed him a perfect view and he pounced. His strong hands latched onto whatever slippery creature was hidden underneath as he caught sight of a long body and fought with the wriggling fish. If he kept his hold, he ran the risk of losing it due to the slipperiness and Altaïr launched it in the direction of the grass. Outside of the water, he reigned supreme against fish and would make the catch incredibly easy.

Immediately, Vivian screamed aloud when a fresh water eel fell directly into her lap rather than the wicker basket he'd laid out to catch his fish of the day. That's right, an _eel_. Its slimy dark body wriggled in her lap as it fought to escape and return to the river where it belonged. She tried to throw it off her skirt but Altaïr had caught it for them . . . so she was forced to bear the slimy animal. Its wet body dampened her skirt as she grimaced with disgust to what was occurring in her lap without being able to stop it. Hopefully, the darn thing wouldn't bite her. Altaïr jumped out of the water as he covered the grass with raining droplets and watched Vivian squirm in place with his catch.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic" Altaïr teased with a smirk as he watched her arms wave in the air as she fought whether to throw or keep it. It wasn't a fish like he'd hoped for but he'd make do with the new creature, leaning down to retrieve it from her lap. Vivian whimpered with relief as the wriggling eel left her vicinity and he had no issue with its resistance as he declared proudly, "Lunch is served."

If she hadn't been so frightened of the eel, she would've beaten him with it. It almost made her wonder whether he'd thrown it her way on purpose. His cocky smirk riled her ruffled expression as she lay on the grass with wet splotches over her clothing and she flung his clean damp tunic at his face.

"_Vivian!"_

Vivian had begun a mental rule book as she traveled alongside the famous assassins to maintain her sanity. A year would be a long time and with almost half a year behind them, she could only wonder how much time would be left until reaching Madagascar. After all, they hadn't even reached Lake Victoria at all! On the other hand, she learned a new rule today with Altaïr: _Never join him during hunts for fear of having prey fall on her._

* * *

"Ow!"

"Would you stop fidgeting?" Vivian requested exasperatedly as she stopped cutting the brown hair at the side of Altaïr's head. It had been time to give each other haircuts since their hair had gotten quite long after months on the road. She stood behind the grumpy man with a sharp knife in hand as he sat on a wooden log with his arms crossed over his chest.

Malik had his cut by Altaïr's dexterous hands since the lack of a second arm hindered an easy DIY trim to his raven hair. Vivian had grinned with girlish squealing as she watched him play barber to another assassin and it took great willpower to keep Altaïr rooted to his spot. Since Altaïr himself couldn't see the back of his head, he braved the idea of letting Vivian do it. At Masyaf, hair was cut by a trained barber but on the road, assassins made do with what they had on hand and Malik was out of the question- leaving the chirpy historian as his last resort. Vivian found it hilarious when he removed his white hood and a full mane of shaggy brown hair exploded, causing her and Malik to laugh at the bountiful length. It turned out that Altaïr's hair grew the fastest out of all and he'd grumbled for a few minutes, especially when Vivian decided to run her fingers through his chin-length hair. She claimed it was for hair cutting purposes but he knew better because the woman was downright sneaky- that and she giggled with glee when she did.

Vivian tried her best since she trimmed the ends of her youngest sister's hair and used cutting shears to style her bangs at home - well, used to. The length of his hair was quite the sight since he'd tied it back with a strip of leather but the man had the lustrous mane of a model. Altaïr, however, was not a good customer since he kept fidgeting constantly due to her wielding a knife near his ears. He was surprised to find himself trusting her with a weapon so close to his head, not to mention jugular, and prayed her hands wouldn't tread anywhere vital. Altaïr hissed under his breath to her nagging as the two resembled hissing cats in Malik's eye as the dai watched the amusing interaction. The assassin's brown eyes were narrowed as he twisted around to face the woman and retorted sharply, "I would if you hadn't just cut a piece of my _ear_ off!"

"I did no such thing, the blade simply touched it after I chopped off a lock" she stated tightly and showed him a patch of brown hair in her left hand as evidence. The fangirl hiding inside the crevices of her mind demanded she keep it for herself as a trophy for enduring life among the bodacious man. She waved the brown strands that were surprisingly a little wavy at the end and smiled cheekily, "See? I should keep this as proof that you exist-"

"You will do no such thing" he interrupted stubbornly and snatched his precious strands from her hand, clutching them against his chest. Of course, this caused them to cling into his fabric since they were free like fur fluff and he grumbled under his breath with a frown, "Damn."

Malik couldn't find better entertainment than this.

"Stop being so grouchy, I'm doing a good job" Vivian soothed gently with a confident smile to her first archaic haircut and ran a hand over the top of his head to comfort him. This caused him to scowl in his seat rather than pacify, making Malik laugh as he resembled a mad jackal. Vivian had cut off the most hair from him as his clump was double the size of Malik's on the grass and she'd barely cut off half so far. She smiled to herself at the possibility of leaving him as he was with half of his hair cut short to the scalp while the other ran past his ear. He'd kick her across Sudan himself if she dared. She wiggled the knife in the air as she puffed her chest and assured wholeheartedly, "If I don't, remember, it'll grow back. Besides, you wear a hood like you do . . . um, do you wear underwear?"

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped with a higher pitch in his voice that told her she'd poked a sensitive 'keep out' zone. Why had she even asked that in the first place? How dare she wonder what he wore underneath his robes? It was improper! The smile lingered on her face as she evened the hair she'd cut and he crossed his arms huffily to add in curtly, "And don't ask about private matters."

Vivian sighed under her breath to his cranky demeanor and pointed out, "Altaïr, you're acting like a little boy who doesn't like that mom's in charge of his cut."

"No, I merely long for the decent barbers that don't rip _pieces_ of my ears off" he stated astutely with a raised nose in arrogance, causing her to brush a handful of his hair over his face. He exclaimed immediately to the prickly sensation over his skin and Malik burst into laughter to the open expression of disgust on his face. He spit to clear his lips from the small hairs and wiped his face desperately as he growled angrily, "Ugh, it's in my mouth! Vivian!"

Vivian wasn't about to put up with his sass since he whined louder than a baby animal for its milk supply and questioned firmly, "Do you want me to continue or will you finish the rest by yourself?"

Malik shook the cloth that Vivian had told him to wrap around his shoulders to avoid hair spreading everywhere on his robes. It had been a helpful tip since he didn't feel like washing clothes that were cleaned a day prior and he smirked mischievously to suggest, "I could knock him unconscious to make it better. We could even. . .alter the style a bit to our liking."

Altaïr didn't like where this was heading since he'd end up with a shaved head and narrowed his eyes as he _dared_ them to ruin his hair. When Vivian pressed the flat of the blade to the nape of his neck, he stiffened instantly at the thought of losing his precious hair to a couple of tricksters. Malik laughed to his immediate flinch since the man was rarely wary of anything and Vivian muffled her laughter behind a hand as she joked aloud, "We could leave the other half and braid it for a very dainty look. Hmm, now that I think about it, we should've let his hair grow and cut off those kitten whiskers so he could impersonate a woman to slip away from enemies."

"Vivian, I will throw you into the river and I'll arm wrestle Malik into submission to chuck him in alongside you" Altaïr threatened with a low growl because he wanted a decent haircut and wasn't about to be manipulated. If they even dared to touch his whisk- _mustache!_- they would live to regret it. Malik's amused expression failed to leave and the assassin eyed the dai with heavy suspicion, slamming a fist onto the log to demand, "Finish this, Vivian!"

"Oh, now he wants me to cut his hair" Vivian feigned a dramatic sigh and grabbed his head in both hands to keep it straight during the cutting process. She grabbed the long ends past his ears and slowly passed the knife through the hair, chuckling softly, "Besides, Malik beat you in an arm contest two weeks ago. I'm sorry to say that he's beating you in one armed combat and swimming."

"He has one arm, he can't-" Altaïr objected since he doubted the man could swim without a second arm but his words faltered when the dai glared at him. He could already see his food being burned that evening by both of his companions and wanted to eat. What person wouldn't want a daily meal? Also, he didn't want to smash everything he'd rebuilt with his friend over one stupid comment during one of his bad days. He cleared his throat to retract what he was about to say and restated calmly, "Of course he can, an assassin is never defeated easily."

Vivian ran her fingers through the crown of his head to measure the next cut and smiled cheekily, "My, my, I'm almost inclined to say you were a little intimidated right now-"

"Woman-"

"Malik, you have become the awesomest companion of all time" Vivian declared proudly with a grin as she left Altaïr with an unfinished haircut that stabbed his dignity into a thousand pieces. She approached Malik as the assassin reached forward to pull her back but she snuck past his reach, causing him to sigh in exasperation. Why. . ._why_ was it so hard to get a decent haircut?! She held out one fisted hand and inaugurated the dai into the popular modern day gesture of phenomenal friendship by smiling cheerfully, "Bump your fist against mine and from henceforth, you shall be known as Malik the Tremendous."

The dai bumped his fist against Vivian's at a perfect angle and she giggled femininely to the best fan moment of her life since traveling throughout Giza. Who wouldn't want to fist bump Malik? The dai shook his head in amusement to humor the young woman and she held her fist to her chest with a beaming smile. She practically hopped on her tiptoes with glee as she returned to Altaïr's side with steps that resembled a squirrel's and he glowered listlessly to her behavior. Placing the knife on the log, she leaned over and grasped his shoulders in both hands to declare with a perky smile, "And you. . ."

His light brown eyes widened to their fullest when she leaned close to his face to break his personal space and Vivian finished gleefully, "Shall be my blue Grumpy Bear as I take on the name Funshine Bear and we journey onto the 'Adventures in Care-A-Lot' to-"

"Vivian, you have five seconds to remove yourself from my person" Altaïr interrupted with deadly calm that distinctly told her to avert her humorous joke. Her shoulders slumped as he seized fun by the throat to smash it against a figurative wall and stab it into resembling a pin cushion. He grabbed the knife off the log to hand it over in one move and Vivian retrieved it to finish her hair cut.

Malik shook his head as Altaïr refused to partake in their jesting and Vivian pouted to state, "You're definitely Grumpy Bear with his sad blue cloud."

It didn't take very long for her to finish cutting off the rest of his hair to leave it cropped short in his classic 'Altaïr' cut because he refused to grow it longer. He used the reflection in the stream beside them and his own fingers to judge her haircut but Vivian fixed any areas that were uneven with a smaller blade. She'd even cut the fine hair around the nape of his neck to even out the cut so he wouldn't complain about that extra perk. Hmm, it seemed he would have to find something else to complain about since it appeared she succeeded. . .for now.

When it was her turn, Altaïr merely told her to tie her shoulder-length hair into a low ponytail and chopped off the black mane where she tied it off. With the current weather, she decided to shorten her hair into a bob and that was the easiest method to achieve it in historic times. She wasn't looking to sport the hair of Victoria's Secret models or luscious lengths because most of the time, her hair was covered underneath a hood or tied against the humidity. Altaïr made quick work of her style after cutting off the excess hair and evened out the cut before untying the leather strap. He'd used the same technique with the smaller knife afterwards to soften any uneven edges but Vivian wasn't vain about her hair cut. After all, it would grow out . . . that and she was glad he didn't take revenge by making her bald.

"So, are we happy with our new faces?" Vivian piped up cheerfully after everyone dipped their heads into the stream to wash off bothersome hair strands off their skin. She was happy to be rid of the extra weight while Malik's wispy strands that stuck out would've had women swooning and presenting engagement rings. This reminded Vivian to find her dear friend some 'happy' time by playing his wingman when they hit a town to explore.

"Very" Malik replied with a pleased smile since he was a simplistic man and wasn't looking to lure attention. If he did, well, he couldn't help his natural features and appearance but appreciated the female vote of approval.

"No, it's atrocious" Altaïr muttered under his breath since Vivian had no hair cutting experience and was adamant that there were uneven patches _somewhere_. Vivian resisted from rolling her eyes to his cranky mood that morning and wondered if he'd been bitten somewhere private that caused his monumental mood swing. Was there an equivalence of male PMS that she could use? There were days like this that she had to bear as the lack of activity while they walked made him feel useless and an active man like him despised such moments. Maybe she'd lose something on purpose to help him feel needed to lighten his fussiness.

"You don't get to talk, you have a hood" she shot back matter-of-factly since the man refused to lower his hood unless it was after dark and often made vampire jokes that he didn't understand. He kept strict to his teachings and she'd fought him once after she wanted to clean the hood free of dirt, which he absolutely refused to remove at camp. Altaïr frowned as he raised his trademark hood over his head to conceal his features once more, uncaring to the cold water droplets dripping down the warm skin of his neck. Vivian bit her tongue on commenting he resembled a turtle hiding in its shell and decided to sketch a cartoon featuring an Altaïr/hood crack pairing.

Haircutting brought Vivian another enlightening rule on dealing with the stubborn man: _Always blame the cutting tool and remind your victim that hair __**would**__ grow back._

* * *

Two weeks later, the group found a small town on the trade route to the east as Altaïr wanted to travel solely by the Nile but when supplies ran low, they had to find civilization. Of course, this would risk their chances of being seen by Templars but they needed food and other supplies. Vivian would be nearing another visit of her aunt flo and wanted to stock up on goods since she was almost out of everything. Altaïr wouldn't argue because he wanted to keep the hidden dragon at bay and needed to investigate whether Templar activity existed in the settlement. With the lack of communication back to Masyaf, he didn't know how the new Giza bureau was handling their plans of attack so he would have to keep his eyes peeled. The trio left their camp safely hidden in the forest as they headed east to find the small town on Amon's map, traveling from the dense forest to a grassy clearing that held no paths. Vivian, however, trusted in Altaïr since he was the Aragorn of the Middle Ages and Malik was the equivalence of Sherlock Holmes.

"I'm sure there won't be many Templars, you're acting like it's infested by zombies" Vivian chuckled amusingly to his suspicion since it was already on high alert and they'd yet to reach the settlement. She'd keep her eyes open, of course, but she expected traders to be the majority of visitors since it lay in the path of the Silk Road. After the asskicking they received in Giza, she doubted great numbers could be at their distance already since Amon and the assassins would keep them at bay at Giza.

"Zoom-bees?" he asked with confusion to her strange jargon and she sighed morosely as they hit another time roadblock. No, his mind had been denied the knowledge of fearsome zombies and hilarious films like Zombieland or the suspenseful Walking Dead comics. Her shoulders slumped since ravenous zombies would always be a fear for her but it had quickly been replaced as number one by evil Templars bent on killing her and her friends.

"Fictional creatures of my realm that eat humans since they're dead humans themselves" she explained casually and watched his face contort to horror to what she was telling him. Even Malik faltered for a moment in his steps since the idea was terrifying and wished she hadn't said that!

"What kind of foul things go on in your time?" he blurted with disgust and she laughed to his shocked expression, watching him roll his shoulders back in distaste. She found herself torn between smiling and frowning as his jabs about her time but agreed towards where society headed. For a moment, she was glad to be in 1190s where she didn't have to worry about terrorism, death by gun wielding maniacs (stab wounds were survivable at least), or being run over by a car.

"Just for that, I will create a _horrid_ Mary Sue story with you" she declared airily as she feigned insult and cleared her throat to begin her tale. Altaïr often heard her talking to Malik about stories she'd read through the years that focused on him but nowadays, most flocked towards his Italian descendant. She had gushed about several that maintained good historical accuracy that had squealing happily but there were others that caused her to curl into a ball. She had deemed the latter 'Mary Sue, whom we boo' and Altaïr wasn't eager to hear one, walking faster when she began dramatically, "The modern day teenage girl was sucked from her Assassin's Creed game into the game itself-"

"That's _your_ story" he preened with a smirk to tease her about her arrival and she hissed like a kitten for being pinned with that.

"I got bonked on the head and fell unconscious, I didn't get sucked in through a magical wormhole!" she corrected indignantly since she was thankful the television hadn't crushed her when she'd fallen and he laughed to the pink tint on her cheeks. There was no way she would tell him _what_ bonked her on the head to avoid that awkward topic. Malik couldn't help but laugh besides her since her entryway to their world matched her eccentric personality and hoped nothing else fell on her as she continued down the road for home. She wagged a finger towards Altaïr to further explain her unintended arrival as she added in matter-of-factly, "And I landed months _after_ your mission ended and I'm still in the dark about the science behind it. Stuff like this _shouldn't_ happen- it defies the laws of science!"

Shaking her hand to dismiss her small rant, Altaïr snorted in amusement and she continued with a cheesy smile, "Anyway, Peggy Sue Suzuki was a beauty of renown but yet she thought herself simple as all men mysteriously fell in love with her quickly. Everyone hated her but she didn't know why since she was the _gentlest_ soul in the world- even the birds tweeted around her when she walked by! She landed in the same city as Altaïr as he underwent a mission and was fatefully rescued from evil Templars by the heroically dashing man-"

He directed another knowing look at the last comment, ignoring the compliment to his appearance, and she pointed out hastily, "Hey, I took refuge in a smelly bale of hay to avoid guards. Besides, you weren't dashing and awe-inspiring at all when you shook me like a rag doll- people die from that, you know. I was still under the impression it was all fake from that hit to the head at home but I didn't blow into your life story nor was I super kawaii happy to be with you. I didn't ask to be in your game, I was quite happy living my ordinary bookworm life. This is how most of the stories happen, okay? Don't blame me, blame your awesomeness."

Malik snickered behind his hand as he took pity on the man for being groveled over in written format and Vivian went on with her dramatic voice, "Where he took her to the bureau and she proceeded to tell him the entire storyline, telling herself that she wasn't changing anything, but was doing so by telling him in the first place! Altaïr forced her along on his missions despite she knew nothing of fighting but yet, to his astonishment, the modern day girl managed to learn in mere weeks what he had in years. It was mind numbingly astonishing!"

Altaïr shot her another knowing look that was starting to poke her in the wrong way and Vivian defended with a flustered face, "I pleaded to go with you so I wouldn't die out here and I haven't learned how to fight at all. . .but I _can_ crush bugs."

"Vivian, my little friend . . . that's not a skill" Malik stated gently with dismay to the pride in her voice since she was as innocent as people came. The historian had clearly told them she had no desire to learn free running for fear of cracking her skull open or becoming paste on a street. For the time being, Vivian, would be a defensive fighter rather than an offensive like he and Altaïr. He patted the top of her head like a sympathetic father that had eaten a sour piece of bread but wanted to encourage his child onwards. What else could he do?

Altaïr, however, smirked with amusement and trapped a chuckle in his throat that actually threatened to break free. Vivian's lower lip puckered in a comical pout since there were some pretty big bugs around and resumed her tale, "Even Peggy Sue's free running surprised him and he had _no_ choice but to induct her into the assassin's order without having her go through the tiers. Of course, nobody complained because Peggy Sue was loved by all despite her constant saying that everyone hated her. Altaïr couldn't believe his luck in finding the girl and although her personality contradicted itself multiple times, he found himself falling into those purple eyes that made no sense biologically and wanted to run his fingers in her outlandish pink hair that would have anyone calling her a sorceress but no- Peggy Sue ensnared them all, even Malik."

"Wait, what?!" the dai demanded with shock to the story because he didn't want to be in those types of stories at all and she laughed aloud to his horrified expression. Altaïr was just about ready to turn green from the invisible lemon he'd eaten and could never imagine doing such a thing. Why would he ever induct a person into the order without _years_ of preparation?

"Oh yes, Peggy Sue managed to make Malik love her and couldn't bear the thought of choosing between the two men so she kept both despite the law and stigma" Vivian continued with a longing voice because there were crazy stories out there that she'd found or her sister screamed about and curled into a ball. Altaïr and Malik eyed each other uncomfortably since they'd never fight over the same woman after overcoming the conflict of the aftermath in Solomon's Temple. They'd rather take a peaceful compromise but they wouldn't share a woman; it was preposterous! Vivian placed a hand over her forehead to sigh with yearning and declared aloud with feigned woe, "Poor brave Maria stood no chance against the flawless Peggy Sue as she'd continuously called the Templar evil and refused to let Altaïr work with her. She blocked all chances for the two to form a relationship but what could Maria do against this foul temptress that defied time? The woman had somehow become a Master already and was advising Altaïr on his decisions! Peggy Sue insisted that Altaïr's life would be fine without her and _she'd_ become the new mother to his spawn but wait!"

Altaïr resisted sighing when she spread her arms dramatically to resemble a bird and resisted from pushing her over. Her story was killing him on the inside to the outlandish characterization of his personality and Vivian lowered her voice to continue impishly, "She managed to get hold of a POE and without warning, was blasted into Ezio's time where she mourned the loss of her beloved Altaïr. Why, oh, why was she taken away from her beloved-"

"I'm going to be sick" the assassin groaned to the horrible idea of falling in love with someone whose sole purpose was to bed him. Malik nodded in agreement and ran a hand through his hair to settle the awful taste in his mouth because he wanted a humble woman- not one that would fly at his friend to have carnal relations.

"Oh, how she cried beautiful rivers of tears . . . but yet she managed to become Ezio's sidekick when she told him of her plight" Vivian feigned crocodile tears as she pretended to wipe them and struggled not to laugh at her shoddy acting. Altaïr hoped the sun would induce unconsciousness as they walked while Vivian set her lips in a firm pout and went on, "It was mandatory for her to treat him badly and call him 'baka bastardo' because somehow, she'd learned Italian and Japanese in her old life- not to mention Arabic! All at the age of five because she was smarter than the average bear! In the end, she cast aside Altaïr and became Ezio's girlfriend when they could no longer deny this incredible ardent love that defied the ages . . . which sprouted within two days."

Altaïr decided to pick up the pace because the woman she'd conjured was horrible in all aspects and he'd never condone cheating. Vivian, a pesky little imp as always, hastened her steps as her voice echoed through the clearing, "That's right, _two_ days. When she finally managed to return to the 1190s, Peggy Sue was happy to find Altaïr in Malik's amorous embrace and told them it was all for the best. Apparently, this was her plan all along- despite Altaïr had NO heir now because of her! With her magic POE, she somehow landed in Abstergo's Templar clutches and was conveniently rescued when Desmond made his escape with Lucy. Who knows how Desmond managed to exist because Altaïr died childless since men _can't_ procreate in that era! Of course, she didn't like this Lucy right away because she simply talked to the man and taught Desmond herself with her arsenal of powers-"

Altaïr made true on his word and ran to the nearest bush to cough up their breakfast, just like many fans that had read really _really_ bad fan fiction. Vivian winced since she'd never expected it to have that awful effect and wished she had a computer to make a gif to email faithfully accurate AC fans. She scuttled over to her leader and gently ran circles over his back to help his stomach settle, informing helpfully, "If it helps, it's mostly young girls and a small percentage of the overall fanbase."

Malik wanted to douse his head with cold water for that awful story and laughed when Altaïr seized Vivian by the head, parting her dark hair to demand madly, "Is your hair naturally black? How old are you? What year are you from? Have you ever met anyone from my family line? For the sake of science, _tell_ me!"

"Yes, 21, 2009, and no" she answered calmly with an amused expression and rubbed his back to quiet the turbulence she caused in his stomach. It turned out that he did bottle up his emotions until they exploded to the surface in similarity to a volcano. She hushed his fretting over what existed in her time since he'd been spared a lot and soothed gently, "There, there, and I still haven't told you about Mary Sue. She's the vampire shape-shifting girl with wings that has a human form and an animal. . . . weird mythological creature form. . .that shouldn't even be possible. Or Betty Sue, the girl who's actually from your time but her family was killed by Templars for no logical reason whatsoever since they weren't even related to assassins. Yet, she was able to survive on her own to carry out revenge and somehow finds you so you can train her to avenge her family. She becomes a master fantastically fast within two weeks despite having no previous training and falls in love with you because you're too bombastically awesome."

"I'm. . .you're not allowed to talk anymore" he ordered sharply to silence the illogical words leaving her mouth and jabbed a warning finger in her direction. She made a zipping motion over her mouth and nodded quietly to prevent another barfing session.

Malik laughed to his friend's apparent discomfort as they resumed their walk but Altaïr was quick to warn sharply, "Don't make me allow her to unleash a story about _you_."

That quieted him instantly.

Vivian just had to stick her foot in her mouth when she informed innocently, "Most Malik stories involve him being your secret lover. Apparently, the chemistry is to _die_ for with the whole forbidden taboo of it all and many are very explicit in adult content-"

Both men ran off to find the nearest bush to barf their horror and cursed this 'internet' of modern times. Vivian learned rule #3 of that month: _Never share Mary Sue plot stories with either assassin while walking underneath the hot sun . . . or that you would find the two an awesome couple if they did swing in that direction._

* * *

Vivian has been inspecting a few ripe apples that screamed 'pan fry me' for caramel apples with cinnamon when someone dashed by her side. She felt a sharp tug on her right side and before she knew it, her money pouch had been snatched by a thief. Had she seriously been robbed in broad daylight?! The person clad in brown ran down the marketplace with haste and Vivian didn't hesitate to yell loudly for aid, "He took my money! Get back here, you scruffy scoundrel!"

Malik turned instantly from his spot, dropping a bag of oats he'd been ready to buy to run after the man with Vivian hot on his tail. Well, more like meters away since the dai could run like the wind while she resembled a little piglet with her petite height. How dare they snatch her money like that? Couldn't they make a decent living? And why did nobody try to help? What had happened to good old Samaritans? Vivian couldn't help but glare at people that simply gawked at the scene rather than join in to unite as a people against petty crime. It wouldn't take an army to defeat one person . . . well, unless you were Altaïr.

"Can't you save the world without being robbed?" she snapped irritably between gritted teeth as they rounded the corner and hoped Malik would be able to nab the person. Boy, her sides killed her fast when she tried to match the cheetah speed of assassins. Man, if she ever met a petite assassin, she'd definitely pose the question. If the thief decided to break out dangerous parkour, Vivian would have to deem her coins gone because she treasured having intact bones.

A moment later, an arrow shot out from the adjacent street that led into a small alleyway and it pinned the thief by their left shoulder. The person struggled instantly as they were pinned to a nearby wooden wall, their legs kicking out into the air in a feeble attempt to free themselves. Vivian and Malik stopped in case someone wanted to shoot them as well since civilians had left the area. Yes, they wanted their money back but they had to keep vigilant of any nearby danger. Somehow, a one-armed man and a petite woman didn't strike as a fearsome duo in comparison to a fully armored Ezio and mysteriously robed La Volpe. Man, if she traveled with that duo- she'd be announcing their dramatic entrance into the assassin dens while showering them with flower petals.

This time, however, she didn't have to hurl her handy pocket sand and cower behind Malik when danger reared its ugly head. She wasn't ready to try her little arsenal of basics on people that wielded weapons- she'd be a brave flea attacking an armored rhinoceros! Their faces broke into smiles when Altaïr stepped into the open, adjusting the leather straps over his chest to hold his recently used crossbow into place. Assassins; always there to help civilians in need and Vivian would gladly pose as the poster child receiving her money back with glee. He approached the pinned man, as it was revealed, to snatch the stolen money pouch from his hand. To make the injury worse, Altaïr patted him down for any extra money he had on hand and found another pouch within their tunic. Vivian couldn't help but smile impishly as the tables were turned and hoped he actually would find extra coins.

"Make a decent living and help your fellow man, don't be a disgusting parasite" Altaïr uttered coldly to the squirming thief as he walked away, leaving the man pinned to the wall to disentangle himself. Vivian wondered whether he'd pierced the thief by his clothes or actual shoulder but he'd saved her meager savings. He gave Vivian both of the cloth bags as she smiled thankfully for its safe return and Altaïr lectured gently, "Be more mindful of it, thieves can lurk just about anywhere."

"Thanks" she said appreciatively and stuffed the bags into the sewn pockets of her robes so thieves would literally have to fish them out rather than pull them from her brown sash. She couldn't wait to change back into her tunic and breeches once they returned to camp but she had the 'proper lady' role to upkeep for the time being. Ecstatic to the fact that she wouldn't have to dance like a monkey to recuperate her losses, she smiled at her financial savior and suggested, "Hey, let me buy you a roasted hen that we can eat at camp for tonight. We'll have a little extra since I've bought water, food, and fabric."

"I won't fight that offer" he humored her since the thought of eating a hen was quite mouthwatering indeed after eating dry meat and bean soup for days. They'd failed to find settlement every two weeks as they hoped and this was the first in more than three weeks so he was thankful. Vivian had literally run circles around him when they'd seen the settlement in the horizon and he added in, "Besides, you owe me for that horrible story."

"Aw, fudge" she feigned a humorous pout since her stories had caused the poor man to barf (and this was the mighty Altaïr, mind you) and snapped her fingers. Malik had bought himself an oat treat the minute they'd arrived to be rid of the taste in his mouth since seducing Altaïr was not in his foreseeable future. Even the thought brought goosebumps to his flesh and he'd made Vivian promise she'd never include him in them ever again. The raven haired woman agreed wholeheartedly since she could never harm her dear dai but Altaïr was fair game. She and Malik were a team while Altaïr competed with her for the funniest jest for bragging rights. She clasped her hands over her skirt to feign a longing sigh of regret and batted her eyelashes to drone, "And here I was preparing to tell you about Patty Sue, the modern day teenager- who's actually Al Mualim's daughter- and has a POE to travel to all periods to seduce you, Ezio-"

Altaïr stomped his right foot to end another onslaught of horrible tales and stated matter-of-factly with a wagging finger, "Vivian, I would never engage in an amorous courtship with anyone under 17-"

"_17?!"_ she exclaimed shrilly to his base age for finding a woman and the outburst caused a few people to stare at her awkwardly. At this point in her journey, she didn't care about her slips in feminine politeness since they wouldn't be there for more than a few hours. Her mouth was agape with surprise to what he'd just declared and could see the endless sea of teenagers heading to their computers to write or draw steamy scenes that would cause her own head to explode (excluding naughtily tasteful pieces, of course). Was he insane?

"It's normal to have a decade gap with younger women but fine, twenty will be my minimum for courting" he justified hastily to silence her screeching since men varied in ages with their wives as social status defined courting ages. He wasn't going to be a prize for the taking with his profession and he'd been lucky to find Maria, even though their relationship was quite unorthodox. He sought love like any other man but it wasn't his fault that his last partner decided to head north and cut off their 'companion with benefits' package.

Vivian shook her head to the initial fact since modern times would land Altaïr in jail for canoodling with a minor. Maria was four years older than him and Vivian figured he'd decided to head in the mature route but he tipped the hourglass entirely with that comment. She placed her left hand over her forehead as the heat threatened to bring forth a fainting spell fit for an anime character and sighed with discontent, "You're 27 years old, man! I can see this coming from Ezio but not you- not _**you**_!"

He winced visibly when she grasped the front of his robes dramatically to resemble a wailing shrew. Malik, however, was quite amused by the change of events as Vivian's easygoing demeanor brought him hours of endless delight. Altaïr wanted to peel off the little leech before she began making a pro/con list in the middle of a street and growled, "Vivian, age differences aren't very important here but I will not be courting anybody who still has baby teeth or lacks a bosom-"

"Hey, ample bosoms don't define a woman!" she pointed out quickly with a frown since she didn't have an ample Baywatch worthy chest. Her girls weren't nonexistent (although the chest binding dwindled the size considerably) but they weren't going to be popping out of her robes anytime soon. With that in mind, she crossed her arms over her flattened chest to maintain the last shreds of feminine dignity.

Malik coughed into the sleeve of his robe to hide his laughter as his voice came out with a muffled, "She said bosoms. I love that word."

"Or has a lesser intellect than mine" he finished shrewdly in the hopes of peeling her off his person and watched Malik shake his head. This would not bode well since Vivian was the type of woman that wouldn't have her education or any other woman's minimized. She would've befriended Maria easily with her 'women are mighty too' view.

She wagged a motherly finger to begin an entirely new debate and lectured, "Now, see here, assassin man, there's plenty of fish in the ocean with your age range and you already whacked Maria with your oar to leave her with a child. Furthermore, women are intelligent beings-"

"You know what, you are right" Altaïr interjected with an agreeable nod and she blinked with confusion since he never agreed with her that quickly. The fact that Malik turned to look at him with a skeptical glance told Vivian that something was definitely amiss. What was he planning in that handsome head of his? The assassin pried off her fingers from his robes, her arched eyebrows lightly twitching to the physical contact, and he continued calmly, "I forbid myself to engage in _any_ form of relationships with any female under twenty-two years of age."

Vivian was about to pipe up 'dat a boy' proudly when he finished with a smug smirk on his scarred lips, "Come, Malik. We will be leaving Vivian here by herself from this day onward since she falls under my new range-"

He pulled Malik along to bid farewell with a simple flick of his wrist, resisting the urge to laugh as his plan was pulled off brilliantly. Vivian protested immediately with embarrassment for digging herself into a ditch but Altaïr pushed Malik along when the dai resisted to move without further deliberation. He wasn't about to leave the poor woman! She tugged at the back of Altaïr's billowing robes to point out she wasn't quitting her spot in the group and needed to be kept in the loop. Forty feet into her tugging, Altaïr stopped since he figured she'd earned enough torment and turned around to finally listen to the fretful woman. Her fingers remained where they were on the back of his leather belt and her shoulders sagged as she mumbled softly, "I hate how feminine and dependent this will sound but. . .please don't leave me. I'm a good manservant, loyal, a good pack mule-"

"I'm not leaving you behind- Malik would truly hate me at that point" Altaïr reassured with a firm tone since he'd never been one for humor but couldn't help himself this time. If she would've left his comment alone, she wouldn't have dug herself into an easy entrapment. What else could he do but allow her to fall into a false sense of security and spring his ruse? Her fingers left his belt as she smiled softly for not being abandoned in an unknown road somewhere in Sudan and quietly smoothed any folds she'd left in his smooth robes. Her emerald eyes gleamed happily in resemblance to a homeless puppy being allowed inside a warm friendly home and he sighed with dismay, "Don't look at me like that. Go to Malik."

Vivian listened wholeheartedly without a peep and rejoined her team happily. Malik truly questioned the odd dynamics between the two but they had increased considerably in cohesion rather than unraveling and diverging into antagonism. The dai never lectured them unless he had an absolute need to and thanked the stars he hadn't needed to explode verbally since he kept a passive demeanor. Altaïr poked her in the ribs and she wiggled in resemblance to the Pillsbury mascot without the hoo-hoo, leading him to chide, "Never ask about my preferences again."

"Of course not, I'll drop dead when I hear about your bedroom fetishes" she joked cheekily and scuttled onwards before he truly kicked her off the team, pulling Malik along for the ride. The dai said nothing as he smiled to her bold comment but he'd rather travel with Vivian since she kept him entertained while Altaïr would. . .let's just say rocks made more noise than the man did.

Another tenet jammed into 'Vivian's Creed for a Neutral Altaïr' was rule #4: _Always carry your money close and never ask Altaïr about his courting preferences . . . it could scar you mentally._

* * *

The trio had been wandering the area as tourists with Vivian shopping randomly but they stopped when they spotted a small group of armored men gathered at a stone two-story building. They weren't dressed like the town's small militia and from their hidden spot, Altaïr could hear bits of English being spoken. The language was a red flag for Altaïr since Arabic would be the major language being spoken by travelers by land or sea. He ushered the two behind a bundle of wooden barrels to investigate further since this was the first lead they'd caught and hated to see their enemy had delved this deeply. He peeked over the tallest stack since his tall height allowed him a decent covert view while Malik decided to place a nearby crate next to one to sit down comfortably and Vivian peeked between two while kneeling since she was short already. It wasn't the most glamorous sight for the awesome duo but being an assassin wasn't all stabby-stabby and manic running towards safety with a heroic escape.

Altaïr fought the urge to exclaim in disgust when scantily dressed women in neutral toned dresses exited the doorway of the building to greet the men with fake smiles and cheerful demeanors. Business was business, right? To Vivian, their garb appeared as simple sleeveless dresses that ended inches from their ankles- nothing scandalous like modern deep neckline dresses or miniskirts. Their feet were bare upon the ground and dust had collected to their ankles but the coy expressions remained as they talked with the men while adding a _lot_ of hand movements that breached personal space. Seeing the look on her friend's face, however, told her this was not normal and the laughter being shared by the two groups clicked on the light bulb in her head. Her lips formed into an 'o' of acknowledgement to the situation and she declared nonchalantly, "Oh, hookers! I've never seen a brothel, how interesting."

Both men stared at her with bewilderment for her pleasant comment and she stepped back sheepishly, reasoning quickly, "I'm a researcher of history, I love gathering facts I normally wouldn't have believed in my own time."

"This is no time for history, Vivian, we need answers" Altaïr pointed out hastily and she pouted for having her history itch banished with one of his firm glares. Nothing killed a mood faster than his infamous deadly glares of doom- somewhere in the realm of fiction, even Megatron cowered. He pushed her head down to keep her quiet and stated firmly about her strange interests, "Besides, I highly doubt your era is concerned about prostitution in 1192."

"Women's studies" she replied cheekily to the many majors offered in her time and he shooed her away to end the conversation. Great, she'd been lowered to the ranking off a bothersome fly now. She puckered her bottom lip in thought to the Templar presence at that specific spot since POE's would more likely be known by government officials or scrolls inside libraries. Tilting her head to the side, she watched the social transaction with a keen eye and asked softly, "Why would they- well, they are men with needs and they're women," quickly, she grabbed her head to groan woefully, "Ew, I just scarred my mind, I broke my brain! I need Ezio in a swimsuit while he runs down the beach with a coconut drink as it puts Altaïr to shame . . . aw yeah."

Altaïr purposely ignored her last comment while Malik smiled to the insane imaginings in her mind. Altaïr's eyes narrowed to finding their enemies there since he'd wanted them eliminated completely at Giza. Did they know where the next piece was actually located? Where they the only battalion? They must've traveled by either land or sea and asked quietly, "Do you think it's their first visit there or have they been here for quite some time?"

"I can run interference and ask like a nice tourist that has a, uh, taste for women" Vivian offered with a mischievous wag of her brows since she'd done so before in Cairo by playing a maid. Malik sighed softly to her disobedience of social rules since same sex relationships were forbidden under the penalty of death and didn't want his little friend carried away to jail. The fact that she was open to casual flirting reminded the two that Vivian would be willing to test her performances to the limit.

_I'm almost ready to remind her she's an innocent flower,_ Malik thought with dismay as he found himself playing an older brother to the woman once more. He missed the role as he remembered chastising Kadar when he was stubborn or wanted his independence but Vivian was different. She was no assassin but he was her teacher in learning the way of his world and charming women was not the subtlest way to gain information in public.

"You have a fair complexion, they might suspect something" Altaïr disagreed immediately since a sudden pop in could draw their eyes to her physical appearance instead. Reluctantly, he admitted that she rather pretty with her green eyes but Templars would not be focused on that . . . and neither should he. Vivian looked to the floor for an alternative to a quick makeup change to fit the part and he refused swiftly, "And don't think about putting dirt or mud on your face, it's disgusting. You're better than that."

"I'll do what I must to make sure you succeed" she insisted softly with determination and he didn't doubt it, appreciating her effort to his cause. He wasn't ready to risk her life against the enemy when he hadn't investigated the area and wanted to keep her expertise on knowledge only. He would utilize her acting skills when he'd fully strategized his plans before daring to put her anywhere with a Templar nearby. His expression failed to change and she accepted his choice out of respect, crossing her arms as she kneeled on the floor to mull, "What are we going to do? Have a stakeout right here for the next three days? These barrels aren't comfy."

Altaïr was ready to explain that it wouldn't be safe but shut his mouth as another alternative arose. He placed a hand on top of Vivian's head as she gave him a good idea like a faithful hound, causing Malik to snicker to the humorous scene. Instead of frowning, Vivian smiled to the agreeable pat as her detective idea worked to flourish another. Ha-ha, he would be her new Batman, Malik would be Robin, and she would be the ever dependable Alfred. Altaïr looked to the group as he conceived his new plan to gain insight and deliberated carefully, "I will climb one of these buildings and observe their behavior, following their routine. I will return to camp later to give you my results so we can plan a form of attack and I'll return here again by morning to continue tracking their movements."

"What if you're seen?" Malik questioned incredulously to his solo plan since there would be no backup and guards wouldn't hesitate to chase him back to the Nile. They didn't know the area well enough to escape or find places for refuge. He flicked his thumb towards the surrounding buildings made of wood and pointed out firmly, "We won't be here and doubt we'll be ready to scatter in under a minute down the Nile. Think about this carefully, Altaïr. This isn't Jerusalem or Damascus; this is an unknown town with innumerable variables for danger."

"I've done investigations dozens of times by myself, I don't need to have my hand held like a swaddling baby" the assassin defended snippily since he'd expected the two to have more faith in him rather than try to dissuade him. Where was all the 'yes, we'll listen' or 'we believe in you' or Vivian's constant 'you're the awesome Altaïr' babble they usually spouted? He crossed his arms over his chest to stare at the two impassively for their negativity and added in, "And if we must run, we will do so."

Vivian refrained from falling into an Indiana Jones parody with Altaïr holding the legendary whip and hat while she ran behind like a loyal sidekick. Now that would be an extra perk for the best adventure in her life! Despite all of that, she wanted Altaïr's wellbeing above everything since he was the glue to his order and their little group. After spending day after day alongside him, she didn't want to leave him or Malik alone in a strange place for very long without lending a hand. She shot him a determined look because he'd have to kick her out and stated with thinned lips, "We're a team, we stick together."

"I'll be home at night" he assured with a tone of finality as he prepared to pull off a long investigation and sighed in disbelief when he felt a tug on his right sleeve. Malik tended to nudge him for attention or call his name while Vivian pulled meekly as she treaded carefully with his personal space. The barrels and his height covered her from sight as he turned around to insist sternly, "Vivian, for the last time-"

She handed him a small cloth bag filled with snacks (dried fruit, crackers, and sucking candies) that she'd bought for travel but could see that he'd need them for energy. His furrowed brow softened to her generous token since he'd assumed a nagging session had reared its ugly head but Vivian understood that this was his life. What else could she say or do? She closed his fingers over the bag and squeezed his larger hand between both of hers to state warmly with a small smile, "Stay safe and come home soon."

. . . Well, he couldn't get mad for safe wishes from that little badger.

He rested his other hand on top of her head, careful with the hidden blade gauntlet and nodded silently because he _would_ be returning home. After all, she'd promised to make him a hen for supper! She released his hand with the comforting fact that he'd be kicking Templar asses if they did try to cross him. The man was a grand master and had inspired countless parody songs so no, she wouldn't worry- she'd pity the people that dared to fight him. With that in mind, she learned the ever helpful rule #5 of the month: _Offering Altaïr a snack and a friendly smile went a long way. . .especially when someone's ass is about to be kicked._

* * *

**A/N**: I'm in love with the word 'canoodling', I recently used it in a future chapter when Vivian and Altaïr are figuring out their attraction. While Altaïr tries the old scientific method (yes, that's exactly what I said) to woo his lady, Vivian plainly puts it as 'canoodling includes the noodle and it doesn't take a genius to see where we're heading'. I'm eager now since we're slowly heading towards the romanticism between Altaïr and Vivian as they head to Lake Victoria. Since the group is now living off the land as they travel, they'll be bound for humorous adventures and plenty of haircuts.

I received a lot of alerts during this holiday week so thank you _very_ much for adding this story (and my other one) to your lists!

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Malik and Vivian make quite the pranking twosome in driving Altaïr insane, especially when he pokes either of them the wrong way. I love going to this AC blog on tumblr that ousts Mary Sue's by pointing out their horrible inaccuracies and after reading bad fics myself, I could imagine Vivian would be ready to jump on that wagon to declare what was wrong with them. I truly hope there really aren't some stories like the ones I made up out there because that was maxing out my craziness factor with Vivian. I love your tune though, they'll be stuck in a room made of stone in Lake Victoria and Vivian's bound to make up some entertainment to kill the time at night. Vivian has such an outrageous adorableness that reminds me of Alyson Hannigan's comedy acting.

_xVentressx_: Success, my job has been clearly done with this tale!

_KrnYong_: Our little history nerd definitely did and yes, her crafty brain I definitely creative when it comes to Altaïr. I'm sure she'll have a book full of her parody songs by the end of her trip but he'll grow immune to the tunes- except the sound, the poor girl is horrible. You're not alone because I can't do the moonwalk either. Lol. I've read quite a few bad fics myself and I fought on actually giving Vivian the entry point I used for his realm but I've worked out the logical kinks. Lately though, poor Connor is getting the huge load of bad Mary Sue's as the ship sailed away from Ezio- why is there no love for old Ezio? The man aged finely in my view. There was one with a dual eye color girl (which gave no logical explanation to the heterochromia) who had her parents killed at a young age by Redcoats (which they wouldn't do to innocent civilians before or during the war) and lived off the land to find Connor and pretty much blended into his story to kill Lee. I wanted to bang my head into the wall but wrote my own Connor/OC tale to supply him with a normal accurate time period to meet OCs on his homestead- it helped to dull the rage. Lol

_Elektraeriseros_: I'm glad you love the story, there's so much humor to fill the seriousness of Altaïr's life with Vivian's jokes. She'll be playing a brothel worker in the next chapter so I can only imagine the humorous outrage she'll stir in him.

_FlyingPizza_: It will actually be a very long time before the two women actually meet due to their different locations. Altair's group will meet hers in Morocco and Vivian will be her usual eccentric self by piping up, "Wow, you wanted to be a brave knight when you were a child. That's so inspiring- I wanted to be a ladybug!". You can imagine Altaïr's humongous face palm here.

* * *

**Next Time**: _How To Kill A Templar_

Vivian had been left waiting inside a wagon full of hay with the premise that the assassins would return to fetch her to attack the Templar camp. As she hid between the awful smelling bales, she noticed the two familiar figures approach her and ducked further inside to resemble a rabbit inside its burrow. If anyone dared to pull her out, she'd scream and kick straight for the crotch with her legs. Her green eyes peeked out of the hay bales (covering her nose the whole time) and blinked with bewilderment when her teammates approached the wagon. Did something happen? Her head popped out of the hay like a curious gopher's and she balked when she noticed blood on Altaïr's sleeves as the white moonlight bathed them. Looking to Malik, his dark clothing made it hard to distinguish but his hair was wispy on the ends which meant he'd brushed it back. She highly doubted he'd doused himself in water to parade through town to sway the female masses so sweat was the obvious answer. Yep, her dear dai had done battle without her to cheer in awe.

"You . . . there was no plan to come back for me, was there?" she asked flatly about being left behind and crossed her arms for being left out of the group bonding. Or maybe the two needed male bonding. The dark crevices of her mind hopped over the other side of male bonding to delve deeper into dangerous territory and she shooed the thoughts of the two embracing out of her head. Damn you tumblr. She shook her head to wipe her mind clear of absurdities, squashing her inner fangirl into mush, and pouted at both men for being left behind like a small puppy.

"No, you're not ready for combat, Vivian" Malik answered gently with his older brother tone since she always tagged along to help but she wasn't ready to face enemies. The village outside Giza had been an exception since their forces had been outnumbered by his and Altaïr's experience but they would never head into battle with a civilian in tow. The Templars would never be underestimated and although their numbers were trickling down, neither man would leave her alone with one enemy for more than a minute. He rapped the top of her head gently in the same manner Altaïr used when he was ready to lecture and stated matter-of-factly, "You need to keep training to defend yourself and we don't want you to be a close combatant."

"I'll leave all that goodness for you two" she sighed softly since she wanted to lend a hand but it was better to be alive than dead. She wasn't looking forward to gutting somebody and didn't want the same on her end so she'd stick to her old decoy tactics. Either way, she was happy to escape the wagon of hay as she hopped out and landed unsteadily due to its height. Altaïr grasped her shoulders to stop her wobbling before she tipped over and she straightened her legs to keep her joints locked. She hoped her clothes wouldn't linger with the smell of hay for too long since she and Malik couldn't stand it. Shaking the sleeves of her robes to throw off hay that stuck to the fabric, she piped up with a bright smile, "So, where to?"

"We're leaving tonight, the Nile will carry us upstream and we will make camp for the night" Altaïr ordered quickly to hasten their escape since multiple deaths would be drawing eyes in the small town. They wouldn't be pinpointed since their camp was miles away and they'd never spoken to anyone so they were in the clear.

"We've never traveled by night" Vivian stated worriedly since the fear of tipping over ravenous crocodiles at night was terrifying since a simple thud could turn deadly. It was bad enough to travel over water during the day but the night would hinder their vision since they weren't nocturnal. She frowned at having to row into water that only had moonlight illuminating their way and pointed out, "There's gators and mad hippos lurking about."

"We'll be very careful, Vivian" Altaïr assured confidently since he wouldn't let her get eaten by hungry enraged wildlife, no matter how irritating she could become. She was ready to add in a few more reasons against night travel but he pushed her onwards as he led the way out of the small trading post.

She tagged along behind him, her shorter strides catching up to his with a quick run, and declared aloud to soothe any worries, "Of course not, the mighty Altaïr is not someone you truffle with."

"Truffle?" he asked baffled to her word choices because there were sentences that truly made no logical sense. What in the world was a truffle? Months ago, he would've argued until he was red in the face to her outlandish babble to hustle her to adjust to his manner of speaking. He realized after a few weeks that the more he fought, the more he lost the battle and conceded to Vivian's quirkiness. Now, he simply allowed her little ramblings and smirked to scoff under his breath with amusement, "You're insane sometimes, Vivian."

"As a loon, you should know this . . . comedy wise" she quipped smartly with a perky little smile about her humorous nature and he ruffled her loose wavy hair. Her smile widened to show her teeth completely as she enjoyed his friendly pats on the head and sighed airily, "Don't hate my wordplay, grand master, hate the game."

"We should use torches to guide our path and prevent animals from sneaking up" Malik suggested as he took the leadership role to leave the town since the two were busy pestering themselves with humor. He never thought he'd see Altaïr turning a playful leaf in his personality but Vivian was slowly bringing his sarcastic edge to the surface. His gaze turned awkward when he noticed Altaïr kept ruffling Vivian's short locks into a large ball of frizz that resembled sheep's wool when pulled apart by a tailor's fingers.

Yes, the two were indeed turning into quite the odd pair.

"Good thinking, you'll be our lighthouse" Vivian piped up enthusiastically and pushed away Altaïr's hand from her head when she finally realized his intention. Of course, she didn't see the giant frizzy ball on top of her head and took his endless rubbing as his joke. The assassin added two more noogies onto her head to end his night and she complained with a soft whine, "You're rubbing my scalp raw."

"Exactly" he smirked with satisfaction to the added bonus to her crazy hairstyle and received an insulted 'why, you!' but he pushed her along the path.

Malik chuckled softly and hoped nobody would notice the armored robed man and the woman with a round ball of frizzy hair on her head. For the moment, he was the sanest and most innocent appearing individual of the group.

* * *

**Thank you again for the reviews and we'll be seeing Altair's date with a brothel worker next time!**


	29. How To Kill A Templar

**Music Inspiration: **_Lorne Balfe- "Fight Club"  
_

* * *

**How to Kill a Templar**

* * *

While Malik remained calm as a cucumber at camp after they left Altaïr behind, Vivian failed to relax as she imagined all the horrible scenarios he could slip into. What if Templars caught him? What if he couldn't stick a landing and hurt himself? What if a fruit peel lay on the street and he slipped on it? Oh no, what if her snacks gave him indigestion? She'd occupied her time by washing, pacing, reading, pacing, practicing her writing, pacing, folding up the laundry-

"Vivian, he will be fine" Malik assured for the tenth time as she folded her laundry hastily while looking into the path they'd taken to the settlement. At every little sound that echoed in the area, her head snapped up to check to see whether Altaïr had returned. He hadn't realized how attached she'd grown to either of them since meeting and she reminded him of a fateful watchdog awaiting the return of its master. That wasn't to say his little friend was their pet but she cherished them like family after having lost hers to the dimensional shift. He watched her fumble with a brown linen skirt as she tried to fold it in haste and advised gently, "Your clothes will be wrinkly."

"D'oh" Vivian sighed softly as she realized her clothes weren't folded in any way at all and resembled crumpled candy wrappers. She was worse at this today than Altaïr normally was since he practically punched his laundry into his bags. No, she wouldn't be getting anything done until the grumpy assassin came back to camp to nag about something. She discarded her clothes into her tent to fold them later when her brain wasn't a useless mush of worry. Vivian plopped down on the log bench across from Malik as the dai read quietly and she admitted bashfully, "I'm not used to traveling without him by our side. I could've stayed behind on a building, brought him snacks, and figured out how to make archaic binoculars."

"He's been doing this for many years, he's survived worse" Malik chuckled warmly to her fretful worrying and could only imagine if he'd stayed behind as well. Vivian slowly found herself agreeing as logic managed to grab hold of her mind because there was a reason he was the badass of the franchise. Well, he shared the title now but he _definitely_ held the champion trophy in her book.

"I know he's capable of surviving just about anything but I worry" she smiled weakly since she'd grown accustomed to sharing jabs at this hour while he skinned his catch for supper. She'd played enough of the first game to know the slightest fumble would have attention called onto you and the fact that he wore bone white robes was a perfect target sign. It would practically call out, 'Hey, Templars, kiss my ass!', to anyone that was familiar with the assassin garb.

With that in mind, she returned back to her tent to fetch the chocolate fabric Altaïr bought back in Egypt to continue stitching the new outer layer of his robes. The man wore intricate layers on the exterior and she kept her cutting precise with his help to make sure it matched his original robe. She loved the beautiful billowing layers of the ends and wanted to maintain the look with the new color.

Malik watched her sit on a clean patch of grass that would hold the unused fabric since he'd added pins for notes on his measurements. She hunched over as she grabbed her sewing needle to continue working on the sleeves that would run underneath the gauntlets and outer sleeveless tunic. Since he was glued to his hood night and day, they decided to leave it for last because it was a fight to get him to relinquish it. She might not be able to fight and although the task was a backwards step in feminism, she wanted to help him blend into their new environments. Although he'd bitched and moaned for quite a while, she managed to pry an agreement to ensure his safety so she'd be holding him to it.

"Do you think he really will wear it?" she asked with uncertainty to change the subject to a lighter mood and shook the end of one of the tail ends of the robes at her friend.

"He will, once we nag him enough and he sees everyone wear that color" Malik grinned since his friend could be stubborn with changes that he didn't implement himself. After all, the man had lived with the same haircut for the last _twelve_ years and refused to change it.

Vivian laughed aloud to the idea of sitting the man on a log and nagging him endlessly to wear the robes. Somehow, she was certain he'd pull off a Houdini and escape them to go fishing or sharpening his blades. Whenever she wanted the man to do something, it was an uphill battlefield and she sighed aloud, "I wish I had your intimidation factor against him. All I can do is offer treats and hope he doesn't stuff me into a log when he's cranky."

Malik joined her laughter since he'd chucked her into her tent more than once and set his book down in his lap to smile slyly, "You try to coddle and condone his behavior, young Vivian. Instead, use what you were born with- female intimidation. Altaïr is a dominant man by nature and although an understanding personality helps, it can also backfire when he wants someone to verbally tangle with him. I don't agree with most of his insane rambles and nip it in the bud with a simple but stern no."

"Have you seen our height disparities? He's liable to crush me under his American size 10 boots" she pointed out awkwardly since she'd actually tried walking in his boots once and fell over when her feet swam inside them. He actually laughed for a few moments before removing the boots off her bare feet and kept walking without offering a hand. When she asked about his lack of manners, he'd simply stated that she was old enough to know what would happen when she touched his belongings. There were consequences to decisions and she'd have to live with each, especially when caught with his property.

"Altaïr respects women and he's intimidated by them so you have his Achilles heel" he stated knowingly since all of the women Altaïr spouted about were either strong in their own right or had beaten him over the head more than once. He didn't waste his time with leech-like women and Malik had rarely seen him with any- Vivian and Maria being the exception. Vivian held knowledge that Altaïr didn't know and that could be used to gain that competency she searched for since the man enjoyed a similar brain to pick. Of course, their complementary personalities caused the two to clash into humorous quarrels and he continued firmly, "When you say no, it _means_ no. Arguing with him, as you can see, leads nowhere and neither does lecturing. If you want to earn his respect, knowledge is your key- not brawn."

Malik made very valid points since she tended to run circles around him like a puppy and she tapped her chin to muse, "You're right. He already has that pedestal of his pumped up to the heavens and when he fusses, he really throws a tantrum of epic proportions."

"There's nothing wrong with appraisal and validation, he melts on the inside for that" Malik stated with a small snort and Vivian's ears tuned in to hear the rest of that because it was gold. The stoic assassin had a chink in his armor that oozed honey from the sappy goo inside? She decided creating his robes could wait for a bit and Malik explained carefully, "When we were growing up, whenever he heard a girl give him a compliment, he was cheerful for days. The man actually _smiled_ back then! He does the same with you in a silent manner until it hits his independent fortress and he runs off to seek his freedom. You notice this happens when you try to use a tone that doesn't fit with his personality and he leaves to avoid any of it. When he does that, stand firm and you'll find your way to making him bend to your will."

Bend to her will, eh? Hmm, her brain really shouldn't mull over words like that because she was certain the man could bend in a dozen different ways. The man was like a yoga instructor with his acrobatic skills at free running! She did not need to imagine him bending at all because the man already had quite the derrière that perfectly fit the 'Baby Got Back' song . . . not that she was looking at it or anything.

Vivian was silent for a few seconds to absorb his advice and finally exclaimed with undying adoration, "Malik, you should write a book! You could call it 'Handling Your Altaïr: A Caretaker's Manual' or 'Altaïr: Dangerous to Docile'! You'd be famous all across the assassin bureaus _and_ in my time," her eyes became glassy and she awed, "I could post it on fanfiction under the pseudonym 'silent assassin' or something cooler."

Malik laughed to her idea since her times were strange and Vivian felt her worry for Altaïr fade away. The dai was like a best friend/brotherly blend that she was fortunate to have on this trip and proud to have him at her side (hustling wise too).

* * *

When Altaïr returned, the bright sun was setting over the silver-blue horizon as an orange ring surrounded the blinding star. He made no footsteps with his mastered stealth but Malik heard his arrival into the camp while Vivian kept sewing the tail ends of the robe. The sunlight would soon be leaving them and the remaining light that filtered into camp would allow her to do the most she could. A flash of white entered her peripheral vision and she turned quickly to see Altaïr had returned safe and sound to their small quaint camp. She dropped her needle onto the linen fabric to jump to her feet and Malik watched her run with inhuman speed towards his friend.

Altaïr barely had time to react when she grasped him by the forearms to ramble worriedly, "You're alive and safe! Did you kill Templars? Did you scare away their scandalous hookers with your hidden blade of awesomeness?"

He sighed dismally to the rambled greeting he received since he craved silence and murmured flatly, "It's jargon like this that makes me want to fall on my own blade."

Her lips frowned to his comment but she _had_ resembled a crazy hen flying at him without warning. She released him to maintain propriety but patted him lightly on the right shoulder to welcome him back home. Malik's advice would come in handy when he was ready to bat her away but for now, she was simply pleased to have his safe return without a blade sticking out of his back. She tucked her hands behind her back to show she wouldn't launch herself at him like said crazy chicken and smiled amicably, "I'm glad you're back."

"A sentence I can relate to" he stated with satisfaction since her ramblings were bad enough when she mixed modern sayings but attributed it to her worry. He didn't know why she'd do so since he'd been on countless investigations without earning injuries. Thirsty from his long walk and mission, he left her standing to head for the water pail on the floor next to the unlit campfire. Vivian's eyes widened when he kneeled down on the bare ground to drink from the pail without reserve. Well, that. . .totally killed his natural allure and awesome factor a bit.

It would've been easy to dismiss his extreme thirst but when his Adam's apple kept moving after twenty seconds to show he was still drinking, she dove forward to yank the bucket away. He literally hissed like a scorned lion for having his precious water bucket pulled out of his grasp and Malik turned his attention to the feuding duo, nodding to Vivian to continue her resolve. This time, she didn't hesitate as she held the bucket close and stated firmly, "You're going to throw yourself into an endless sleep if you drink all of this. You'll imbalance your entire system and we won't have that. I can make you a meal but no more water until another half hour passes."

"You don't own the water pail!" he objected shrewdly since his mouth was drier than the entire Sahara desert and lunged forward to reclaim it.

Malik's right leg intervened as Altaïr struck it with his chest and bounced back to fall on his butt. Honestly, he felt like a father rather than a brother with the man when instances like this occurred. Altaïr's lips were set thin to show his displeasure at being denied water of all things and hoped his robes hadn't landed in wet dirt that would stain. Malik stood in front of Vivian as the woman held the pail protectively in her arms as one would a child and the dai stated matter-of-factly, "Given the fact that we cook each day, Vivian and I are practically the king and queen of food so you'll heed her order. After all, she's only- oh, I don't know- saving your life."

Altaïr grumbled under his breath for being on the losing end of this battle and stood up to dust off his robes, shooting the two a small glare. Why did the two always conspire against him? Vivian set the water pail next to the log bench that lay besides her and shifted the conversation elsewhere by asking, "How was the investigation?"

"I should deny you the knowledge but I'm hungry" he nagged with offense to being banned from water and sat down on the log to relax his legs. The inside of the boots were cooking his feet after walking for hours around the village and back to camp, leading him to unbuckle them to allow air inside. The leather was warm to the touch since the sun had resembled half a circle when he entered the forest but it managed to keep the humidity inside his boots. If that didn't finish him off, the heat waves would and he deliberated while removing his boots, "Well, I noticed they had a camp further south where homes were sparse and followed their movements. Unfortunately, I saw nothing out of the ordinary but I need access to their camp to figure out what they're doing. As for that brothel, I overheard them say that they'd visit it after sundown."

"Evil men canoodling after sunset- sickeningly vomit worthy" Vivian shuddered to the thought of cartoonish Templars making kissy noises to scantily clad women. Was there no decency in the ancient world?

Altaïr ignored her comment about adulterous conduct because he didn't want to imagine other people doing that or that they actually had reproductive parts to speak of. He eyed the little badger when she sat next to him with her hands neatly tucked in her lap and eyed her for any mischief. Today, however, she was being a good girl for his sake since he became grouchy during a long travel and he continued nonetheless, "I need more time so I will be returning tomorrow to track them once more."

Vivian was ready to offer her free services to nab a Templar for interrogation but he intervened firmly, "We need a plan but not until I've gathered everything that I can."

"Aw. . .poo" she mumbled as her itch to cause humorous mayhem was squashed into the dirt for the time being. Well, she'd just have to wait until she could get her face plastered over a wanted ad then. Hopefully, they'd get her nose right since it made or broke a face.

* * *

Altaïr arrived later than usual on the third day, worrying Vivian as she'd believed he'd been captured or injured on his search. He'd barely walked into camp to utter a word since he was thirsty for water after the long walk before Vivian popped into sight without a noise. He'd been able to detect her on the last two days but not that day as she burst in like a crafty gopher rather than the uncoordinated wild hen. Seriously, where had she come from? Her hands clutched the leather straps that held his bow across his chest before he could stop her and she rambled worriedly, "You're alive! Are you bleeding? Burned? Bruised? Starved? Beaten? Tortured? S-"

He sacrificed his right arm as a shield to avoid being hugged in any way as she grabbed him to check for any injuries. Her eye was incredibly keen on finding the smallest speck of blood and Altaïr decided that although he'd never had a mother, his child would undoubtedly suffer under Maria if Vivian carried this extent of a maternal instinct. The little badger was breaking personal space as she tried to grab his shoulders for a closer inspection but he dissuaded quickly, "Vivian, don't be a mother."

"I know you're a man that could fall out a four story building and survive unscathed but you're my friend . . . and I worry" she admitted sheepishly since it was a natural trait of hers and they'd become her adoptive family to sate her homesickness for her own. She didn't think she'd ever find coexistence with Altaïr but she had and wasn't about to let him die before he reached his wise elderly years. He had to live so he could nag for decades to come and whack people with a walking cane. Her hands lingered on his shoulders before lowering to the front of her chest as she tapped her index fingers together and murmured privately, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I knew emotions would be a disease and you're gushing them all over the place like a plague" he hushed her worried rambles but his words carried no malice, placing a gentle hand on her head to announce his safe return. She liked it when he did that- platonically, of course- since most of the time, her 5'3 frame was fit to be his dresser rather than sidekick. He was home safely at their camp and that was all that mattered to her, ignoring his remarks about emotions. He ruffled her raven hair to leave it unkempt as a sign of friendship and stated smartly with a smirk, "You've infected me so go fetch me a cup of water like a good wench."

"Call me wench again and I'll shove that cup where the sun doesn't shine" she grinned with a wagging finger and pulled his hood down as she headed to the water pail. The man was good with his jabs but he kept her on her toes as they made each other smile in their own dysfunctional way. He hissed softly as she managed to catch him off-guard with her retaliation move and brushed sweat from his brow before lifting his hood back in its original place. Boiling hot or not, he'd never remove his hood.

"I hope you found something definite this time" Malik commented simply as he sat down with a tedious expression on his face since he'd finished reading his book and longed to trade it for another. This was the longest they'd stayed in a camp and he was eager to move south to the lake, which would undoubtedly let him swim his cares away. There was only so much he could do in a day before he'd be driven to death by boredom and Vivian had begun taking naps. Malik never thought he'd find himself bored in the middle of nowhere.

"After figuring out their, uh, schedules, I have a plan" he stated with a proud smirk and his companions sighed with glorious relief that rivaled a hallelujah choir. Vivian handed Altaïr a cup filled with cold water and the man chugged it down to moisten his parched throat, wishing for rain in the hot climate. After basking in the sun for hours as he tagged his targets overhead on buildings, he wanted to lie in the shades and be drenched in cool moisturizing water. Wiping his lips dry, he set the cup down on the log beside him and explained carefully, "From what I've gathered, it's a group of five staying south in the outskirts but the leader frequently visits a brothel. Sometimes, one of his men will follow but mostly, it is him. He . . . every _day_, for hours, I don't even-"

Vivian saved his flustered expression since Altaïr gave the blushing virgin a new name with his stammers and she smirked slyly, "Okay, the man likes ladies to ride his private pony-"

Both men winced to the image and that she knew such colorful language since ladies were meekly quiet on such private matters. Malik remembered making a meal for the lost historian on her first day as she wiped one bleary eye from the emotional (not to mention mental) overload. Where had the little lost sheep in his flock gone? His shoulders sagged as Vivian smiled impishly and he sighed with a melancholic tone, "You were so young and innocently lost once."

Vivian chuckled to his brotherly tone, squeezing his shoulder as she sat beside him to participate and asked curiously, "So what do you have in mind?"

Altaïr offered a rare smile that unsettled Vivian.

Malik felt a shudder go down his spine in similar fashion to the fateful day he'd first lost his beard and encouraged, "Good luck, Vivian. I believe in you."

"Oh man, what did I just get myself into?" she whimpered disappointedly and scuffed the dirt with her shoe because she didn't feel her persona would be much fun. Somehow, she doubted she'd be playing a jolly jester or insane lady throwing rocks. If Malik's pitying expression was anything to go by, it meant she would be moaning in a lonely cave of woe after Altaïr's plan finished.

"We're going to infiltrate that brothel" Altaïr deliberated simply with a snap of his fingers and Vivian decided that she was better off studying the architecture and individuals _outside_ the place. Egad, could you imagine the horrible smells inside? Or half-naked people? And the sounds? The _sounds_! Her lips parted in disbelief because they were about to venture where most assassins would not and Malik smacked the man upside the head.

"Ow!"

Altaïr rubbed the top of his abused head as the dai glared to his ludicrous idea and exclaimed indignantly, "Have you lost your sense of dignity? We're not putting Vivian or any of us inside that vile inn of ill repute!"

"We have to in order to kill that man and it is the easiest approach" Altaïr explained firmly because he and Vivian would be doing most of the work. Malik could no longer scale walls with ease or climb a rope quickly (although he could do both) so he would be his eyes and ears outside the inn. Malik was clearly against the plan while Vivian felt her stomach gurgling inhuman noises and Altaïr continued, "I need to isolate the woman he. . ."

"Asks to lick his banana?" Vivian supplied unabashedly and Malik groaned into his hand with dismay. Where had his little sister sheep gone? He could already imagine a wolf Altaïr picking her up in his jaws and carrying his little sheep off, away from his safe watch. Sometimes, he just wanted to smack sense into his friend until he kept her from acting foolishly and keep Vivian as a soft-voiced woman should be. It would've made life ten times easier for him.

Altaïr fought the red that threatened to prick at his ears and cleared his throat awkwardly to her double entendre. Was . . . was that possible? Such topics were forbidden, especially for women, and he swore the neck of his hood became warmer. Well, Vivian would eventually tell him the truth if he asked, right? He actually found himself pausing as her words registered in his mind, stirring a question, and he asked quietly, "Women do that?"

"_Altaïr!"_

The assassin cleared away the hint of curiosity on his face and Vivian covered her mouth with both hands to stifle the loud laughter breaching through her lips. Was he really asking her what she thought he was? Composing himself, he cleared his mind free of lovemaking techniques and knew a lecture would occur after this with Malik while Vivian's face threatened to shift from a tomato color to cranberry. He cursed that mischievous badger for placing that thought in his head when he was in the middle of planning and went on hastily, "I will ask for her, ugh, company and knock her unconscious. Vivian will climb in to replace her as I feign leaving the building but find my way back inside to await the man at his regular, ugh, schedule. I will hide inside the room while Vivian will utilize every charm in her arsenal to lure answers from him."

"And if I can't and he decides to go at it like a couple of rabbits?" Vivian questioned shrilly since Templars would undoubtedly be stronger than her and wearing flimsy clothing wouldn't make her feel safe. Humorous characters that didn't require much were easy but she carried no allure since she'd attempted it back in Giza to receive nothing in return. Instead, men had literally run down the stairs away from her. On the other hand, she could hope this man was incredibly horny and cared for nothing but doing the beast on two backs. She placed her right palm on her forehead to breathe deeply and sighed miserably, "Goodness, this is Assassin's Creed meeting Grand Theft Auto. We're pushing the 17 and over rating, man."

"Once we're finished, we'll leave out the window and remove the Templars stationed to the south" Altaïr reassured since it was the best plan he could create with the least violence and danger to civilians. He wouldn't be placing Vivian in close combat which is why he needed her as a decoy since Templars wouldn't suspect a woman to pose a danger. They'd kicked out Maria partly because of her gender so Altaïr truly required Vivian's aid for easier infiltration. Malik wouldn't be onboard unless Vivian was absolutely sure and he promised to keep her safe, "I will watch over you every step of the way and won't hesitate to dispose of the man myself to protect you. In return, you can touch my sword as a bonus."

Vivian's cheeks turned rosy since the entire conversation had been hilariously awkward to begin with and asked tentatively, "Metal sword or the hidden one under your pants-"

"Do you see what you've done? You've sullied her brain!" Malik accused indignantly since he refused to put more garbage into her young mind, jabbing his friend on the chest with his finger. Words like that would've had his little friend stoned or exiled for such adulterated speech and he watched Altaïr cover his face with his hands in dismay. The grand master was pretty certain Vivian's head was a little more naughty than either of them gave her credit for but he wouldn't travel that road to keep his sanity.

Vivian resembled Altaïr in blushing color but she was laughing uncontrollably as she tried to keep her face from turning redder. She used one hand to squeeze Malik's shoulder in reassurance that Altaïr hadn't dirtied her mind since she was the one poking the man with her words. Man, this was one conversation she didn't expect but it was leaving her in stitches as her sides ached terribly. Of course, she was the only one laughing while Altaïr clearly appeared embarrassed but Malik held the expression fit for a father ready to shoot a boy off his land for catching him with his daughter.

She waved her hands to clear the air since the faster they planned, the quicker they could leave the boring campsite, and chuckled softly, "Forget what I just said for all of our sanities. I'll follow your plan as long as I know every detail and your whereabouts. I'll also need access to your sword as promised, weapon and private-"

"_Vivian!"_

She waved her fists in disillusion since she couldn't help but add in that joke and sighed flatly, "Fine. Buy me whatever has a sweet taste and doubles as a dessert or snack. I really, _really_, need some kind of sweet sugar out here."

This time, she kept her mouth closed because there were a few jokes she could've used to mortify Altaïr. Malik had now taken to watching the two like a hawk as his eyes moved side-to-side every time one of them spoke and both felt like teenagers under his gaze. Boy, the man would make a fierce protector if he had daughters one day. Altaïr nodded halfheartedly since he usually caved for simple things they could share and was satisfied she agreed with the plan. What he didn't like was the fact that he'd never look at his trusty and mighty sword the same way _ever_ again.

* * *

Altaïr never felt so dirty at having to pay for a room in a brothel but it was for the good of mankind. That wasn't to say he appreciated wasting his own money for a night of pleasure because he wanted food like any normal human being. His pride and dignity as an honorable man had sunk to the seafloor of the Indian Ocean when he entered that dim musky building filled with people. He'd been incredibly uncomfortable asking for a night with a woman but Vivian had helped coach him with the words without a fuss. How the historian could talk so boldly about things that would leave him red in the face was beyond him (futuristic people were quite improper). His palms had sweated when he handed his hard earned money with lament to the matron of the brothel and requested the woman the lead Templar visited. He really missed his weapons since he'd left them in Vivian's care for later use but had his trusty hidden blade. He wouldn't even deliberate on the orgasmic noises she'd made on being given his sword and dagger, only because he heard similar inside the brothel.

He'd fought the notion to run away when the woman led him by the hand (did she have to touch him?!) upstairs to the second floor where . . . well, everyone danced naked in the sheets. The downstairs were for waiting 'customers' or workers but Altaïr had seen no reason to explore that ranking cesspool and decided to inwardly sob as the dark-haired woman found her room. He said nothing to the woman, who apparently spoke a bit of Arabic, but her frizzy black hair tied in a low bun was enough to remind him of Vivian in the morning. This woman, however, wouldn't chase him for using a haughty comment on her looks and he thinned his lips when they stopped at a closed door.

The woman opened it with ease and entered her private chambers with him in tow. There was little furniture for the small room and a disheveled bed in the center took the spotlight for the woman's job. A sole window allowed the soft breeze of the night to enter the warm musky room that smelled like . . . Altaïr wished for a nose plug . . . while gray curtains were drawn to allow it. There was a wooden washtub to fit a woman's size at the farthest side of the room and Altaïr prayed that he'd never have to touch it.

"Make yourself comfortable" the olive skinned woman purred as she pushed him towards the bed but he found quick refuge in a chair. He was not about to be touched in places he didn't allow unless _he_ said so and praised his fast reflexes. He was a man that defended his large personal space fiercely and unless an acquaintance carried his immense trust like Malik and Vivian, they'd be kicked away.

Of course, when the specific woman he 'purchased' began to drape herself around him, he fought the instinct to run away to seek refuge in his tent. Vivian had commented that they could be as flexible as a river eel and he wanted to accidentally throw the chair back so he could escape. It would hurt his cranium but he thought it would be worth the effort to save his dignity. The dark frizzy haired woman had mentioned in a thick Arabic accent that his shoulders were stiff as she attempted to massage him. He bit his tongue on snapping that he wasn't free with his body (he was a chaste man, not a sleeping mat!) and allowed her to . . . ugh, do her job in alluring him. Still, how dare she touch his clothed body?!

When opportunity presented itself, he used the nearest object next to his chair to knock her out by hitting the back of her head. The woman uttered a grunt of pain in surprise to his strike before collapsing unconsciously onto the dusty floor. His entire body became lax in relief that it was over and the nimble fingers were no longer prodding him like a piece of meat. He looked to the wooden mug in his hand that had held alcohol inside (but now covered the floor) and thanked his inanimate friend for lending a helping hand. Now, if he could find alcohol for himself after the mission, he would sleep contently without the retching worthy memories.

For the moment, he was alone without a harlot or an enemy so he'd count his blessings. It would give him the sufficient time needed to prepare and he didn't hesitate to jump off the chair with disgust, actually yearning for a hug or the option of curling into a ball. Where was Vivian when he needed her to offer one of those ridiculously named hugs? He quickly tied the unconscious woman by the arms and legs with stray blankets from the bed without ripping them (they were brothel workers that were poor, after all). The washtub was the only decent place to hide her so he carried her there to stuff her inside –gently, don't worry- and draped a blanket over her to make it seem like a tub full of laundry. He moved to open the window facing the east to its fullest, using his eagle vision to pierce the darkness of the night to find Vivian and Malik waiting down below.

Vivian held his sword at her waist with its belt (feeling like a mini Altaïr) and he dropped the prepared rope over the window to have her climb inside. It had been annoying to conceal it since his leather knife belt had to be left behind and Vivian helped him don his 'stocky' Altaïr outfit as he used hay and rope to imitate a belly. He didn't know how she could craft these outfits quickly since he'd originally decided to act as a rope salesman in need of a woman. Five minutes of nagging and altering, he'd concealed it in his robes and practiced his false background of being a spice salesman. Vivian imitated a clucking hen when she grabbed the rope to confirm she'd found it in the dark and he resisted from sighing because he'd distinctly ordered _no_ bird calls were to be used. Malik would have no access and Vivian cursed her luck for having to climb a rope, causing him to smirk since he'd told her no chicken noises. Why didn't people put an emergency wooden ladder or something for emergencies? She wasn't a ninja!

"Signal us for Templar presences" Altaïr hissed from above to use his friend as an alarm and Malik blended into the shadows, hoping there were no rabid animals about. Nonetheless, he'd brought his own weapons to be prepared since they had an entire team to eliminate. Vivian wasn't a fan of climbing on a rope but managed, her fingers aching at the joints when Altaïr helped her inside. She'd never been happier to find stable ground but still saw climbing ropes in gym class as useless since nobody else would be time traveling to the fiasco of a life she had.

Altaïr grasped her shoulders for a quick boost of moral support that he'd never needed before in his life since brothel workers were _not_ in the assassin's manual. She was taken aback by the physical outreach since he'd usually whined like cat when she tried it and he admitted with a sullen sigh, "I've never felt so disgusting in my life, Vivian. She _touched_ me!"

She would've laughed if he didn't appear so serious and asked gently, "I hope not in a no-no place?"

"If she had, I would've set this building on fire" he shot back for the subtle jab of being touched inappropriately and felt slightly calmer when she offered a sympathetic smile.

"It'll pass, think like a Templar and swallow the nasty aftertaste" she advised softly as she placed her hands on his forearms to offer a supportive squeeze to carry him onwards. A hug would've probably sent him scurrying for cover after the encounter and improvised to make him comfortable. It was the manly unemotional boost he needed and he left to take care of tidying the room for their upcoming guest. He looked through a night table to peruse through the drawers for clothing since he didn't want to remove the woman's dress. That would be embarrassing enough and wouldn't sully poor Vivian to that or viewing a naked woman.

Vivian unbuckled his belt to remove and set it on the bed as she observed the small room. Is this how undesirable women made a living in that age? It was odd how blasphemous and sinful it was until the late 20th century when it was a mere slap on the wrist for a woman who worked the streets. She could understand the need for women who were unmarried with a child and couldn't make a living just for that alone but was glad to see times had changed for unmarried single women of modern society. There had been so many lives lived from this point in time to hers and thanked her lucky stars to be from a happy home where she could contribute to society without fear for being a woman.

Of course, that thought went down the crapper when Altaïr revealed a brown linen dress that held no sleeves and was rather on the thin side in fabric. He held it up by the sleeves with a distasteful frown as she eyed it suspiciously and he stated with finality, "Wear this."

It was a good thing they'd never be shopping at Victoria's Secret together- he had horrible taste.

"It's clean and not so revealing" he pointed out quickly to get her moving since they couldn't dawdle and threw the dress at her. She caught it with an indignant squawk because she'd forgotten she had to play the brothel worker part and couldn't wear her decent conservative clothing. He pointed to a changing curtain behind him that had been placed in the rear left corner of the room as the two adjoining walls acted as a protective barrier with the curtain in front.

She flung the dress over the curtain to keep it there while she removed her own clean clothing that held her own beloved germs and sighed aloud. The things she did for this man. She could see his silhouette buckling his trusty weapon belt back into place and raised a brow in thought before asking aloud, "Can you see me through this? Because I totally can."

"I won't dignify that with an answer and I'd sooner stab myself in the eye than look at you" he stated calmly without a change in tone and she rolled her eyes to his mightier-than-thou principles. After being fondled or who knows what, Vivian decided that he carried a little more respect after a little enlightenment.

"You're a charming man, Altaïr" she muttered sarcastically because he held no allure in his words and knowing him, he'd be true to his words to an extent. She withheld a discomforting whimper as she squeezed her robes goodbye for the thin dress and felt eerie at wearing a modern day length with an acceptable show of skin. The thin fabric was a cause of concern since it almost appeared transparent and hoped neither Altaïr nor their expected guest could see her curves. She'd seen worse in clubs and high school proms-

"Are you ready?" he asked quickly since the man would arrive soon and the curtain shifted as she made sure everything was in place. Thankfully, she could keep her little leather shoes on because she wasn't keen of walking barefoot over the floor where. . .ugh, bodily fluids had probably dried.

Her voice was uncertain as she called over hesitantly, "I don't feel comfortable wearing this . . . it could be riddled with disease."

"I told you to keep your undergarments on" Altaïr pointed out swiftly to keep the little badger virtuous and stomped over to where Vivian was changing. She shot him a heated glare when he parted the curtain without asking for permission but said nothing since she needed his help. Otherwise, she would've kicked him out for trespassing. Her hands were fiddling with a tie on top of the left shoulder that held the dress sleeve together and kept adjusting the hold to make sure it wasn't too revealing or giving her a strange toga look. She squeaked in alarm when he grabbed the tie and knotted it tightly before she became indecent. They didn't have time to waste and he observed her appearance as he helped her, mumbling under his breath, "I could've sworn your breasts were smaller."

. . . WHAT?

The comment left her stunned since he was invading her privacy without worry and the fact he'd stated that so casually was daunting. Who would want to walk around with their cleavage showing or hanging out? It would be impossible to run comfortably without them flopping over the place with the nonexistence of the bra. She was glad to the option of taping them down completely. Also, culture dictated for her to be covered up to the maximum. She was no Sue demon that decided it would be cute to prance around with her arms or legs on display because she'd be stoned rather than be called uniquely awesome by others. Her main reason for stiffening to the comment was pure and simple as she questioned, "And who gave your permission to look there? Those puppies are _my_ property."

"Doesn't stop you from looking at mine" he stated evenly with a slight smirk and her cheeks reddened to his remark because their baths at the river often had the two meeting each other on the way out. While she fiddled to make sure everything was in place before leaving her bundle of safety reeds with hasty steps, Altaïr sometimes left the area without placing his undershirt on and it was a tantalizing scene straight out of Baywatch for poor Vivian. She couldn't help the male magnetism! What decent fangirl could when they were faced with an assassin that could break them into tiny pieces but held the allure of ten attractive men rolled into one? He probably held muscles were no muscles were before with all of the training he did.

Altaïr had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike with that fact but just as she was conscious about her lean body that lacked muscle, he was the same due to his scars. He wouldn't prod her further since they had a job to do but her expression was priceless. Her lips gaped like a fish out of water for a moment as she began to resemble a cherry and he added in, "And fix your hair, we need to allure him."

"I don't think he'll care when all he wants is get in my skirt" she stated flatly as they stepped out of the small area since the close distance was turning her redder by the second. Yes, he was attractive physically but she wouldn't be gushing like a schoolgirl since he was her companion. He _was_ Altaïr, the no nonsense assassin, and could kill you just as soon as he looked at you. He wouldn't be giving you a lay in bed worthy of paradise itself and killing you afterwards like Ezio.

Altaïr wagged a lecturing finger to correct her words and stated matter-of-factly, "Every man likes neatly combed hair- it shows you're fertile."

"Great, I've always wanted to create Templar spawn with luxurious hairstyles" Vivian snorted sarcastically and quickly combed her fingers through her hair with a frown. It wasn't her fault the desert heat flattened it and wasn't interested in the attraction qualities of the 1190s. If a man was looking for company in a place like this, she didn't need to look like Angelina Jolie to allure him and make him drop his pants. Ugh, she really did not want the latter. Picking out loose strands that came away from her combing, she puffed up her hair from the bottom and piped up with a small hopeful smile, "Better?"

He hesitated to answer the question since her hair appeared fuller but not neater and quickly muttered, "You tried your best."

Gee, he really knew how to make a girl feel good, didn't he?

They heard footsteps move in their direction and Vivian ran a hand to smooth out the dress as Altaïr hid behind another curtain across the bed, hiding his feet behind a night table. Was it so hard to make curtains that touched the floor? It would make assassinations quite easy. When the door opened, an English man wearing gray attire entered but only had leather armor for protection so she imagined he trusted the woman not to kill him. The dark-haired man actually wasn't as bad looking as the rest she'd encountered but kicked herself since hormones had no place in the archaic era. Vivian slanted her hips to the right and placed her hands on them as she tried out her best seductive voice with words fit for any comedy show, "Looking for a good time, handsome?"

"You're not Fazi" the man stated sharply since the new woman standing in front of him was not one of the continent or the Middle East- not even Asia! If he'd known there was an English girl working the streets, he would've sent her back to England where she'd do it better at one of _their_ brothels. Why bother with a third-world country that wasn't even colonized?

"She's on her period so unless you want a bloodbath, I'm all you got" she answered swiftly and Altaïr resisted from slapping his forehead since women were meek in their time. The fact she'd been so bold about a natural condition made him sigh mentally and hoped she wouldn't botch the scheme. The man noticed her accent didn't match an English woman's, catching his interest, and Vivian continued with a sweet smile, "Besides, I'm the one reserved for regulars when a girl can't handle the task. You're in for a treat."

Instead of a happy Templar foaming at the mouth, the man stated perceptively, "You're English."

Vivian groaned mentally with exasperation and wished to have the olive complexion of Malik that drew masses. She decided improvising was her best option and clasped her hands behind her back to raise her chest in emphasis to draw his eye, "Yes, my parents abandoned me in the outskirts of this village since they had too many to care for and the owner of this establishment took me in. Now, are you here for fun or my life story? If you're here for the first, take off the armor and if not, take a seat on the chair."

Her stomach sank when he began unstrapping pieces to drape over the table next to the door as his back faced Vivian. Altaïr thanked his sixth sense as his special vision pierced the thin curtain to track their movements because he'd keep his promise to Vivian. Otherwise, Malik would throw a bottle of acid in his face. Trying out her charms, she swung her hips to the left and raised the corresponding shoulder as she asked silkily, "So, what brings you to our lovely town?"

The simple reply was, "Business."

Well then, she'd just have to be sultrier and bed worthy than this Fazi to pry some answers. Weren't breasts and ovaries enough for men looking for loose women? Vivian bid goodbye to her bubbly adorable self for the next five minutes as she boarded the harlot boat and left her with a mug to rattle for change.

"We girls love stories, care to share?" she asked sweetly with a wink as she grabbed the man by the shoulders (he was thankfully much shorter than Altaïr) from behind and leaned against him. Her dress was thin as a sheet and felt the warmth from his attire breathe into her skin, causing her mask to crack for a moment. Thankfully, she was leading him to the nearby chair from behind so he saw none of it and Vivian preened innocently with curiosity, "Is it adventure? Searching for a criminal? Setting up a business? I know- you're protecting one of the import merchants!"

The man appeared mildly amused to her guesses as she practically catered to his whims and sat down on the chair to watch her nimble movements. Her appearance was definitely easier on the eyes and the candlelight illuminated the skin that all fair ladies of England carried. Vivian rolled her shoulders (hoping one wouldn't crack from misuse) and arched her chest as she leaned in to smile impishly, "Or a taste for exotic women?"

"A means to end war" the man replied evenly without elaborating and Vivian added an innocent nod in acknowledgement, feigning astonishment.

Walking in circles around the man as she traced his shoulders with her fingertips, Altaïr had to admit the little badger carried her arsenal of charms. He would've preferred her subtler ways rather than have an eel of a woman throw herself at him without warning- wait, why was he comparing the two? Vivian smiled pleasantly as she moved to massage the man's shoulders (crying mentally on the inside since her dreams usually had Ezio in that position) and gushed with a happy sigh, "My, that's adventure in itself. Imagine the prestige for that! Are you roaming new lands you've never seen? Is it exciting?"

"Home is far and my goal is . . . out of my element" he replied cryptically as he tried to pull Vivian into his lap but she dodged out of his grasp, shaking a teasing finger. She smiled charmingly as she tried to be playful prey to keep the man talking and he took the bait since many enjoyed the chase. It was easier than having their woman lie on the bed flat as a board but Vivian was doing it for another reason entirely. She was notorious by dodging him quickly as she managed to keep her sweet smile plastered and he asked with an interested smile, "Have you ever tasted adventure?"

"I'm tasting a bit right now" she grinned slyly as she eyed him with intrigue and moved closer to sit on his lap. Altaïr fought the urge to throw her off the man before she sullied herself but Vivian used the arms of the chair to push herself away before he had the chance to grab her into his arms. She moved to stand in her original spot, hating the candlelight that outlined her body's silhouette in the dress and motioned to the room to state, "I've never lived outside this village so I like hearing about travels. Might you indulge this young soul a view of where you'll roam?"

Altaïr had to admit the crafty historian was really good at creating her personas and kept calm under pressure that would repulse the faint-hearted. He had to admire her acting as she played the innocent brothel worker that dreamed for a brighter future but in its own odd way, some of them actually held such dreams.

"A lake that supposedly births the mighty Nile, very far from here" he answered simply to the true whereabouts but it was enough for Vivian to know they knew where to look. What other lakes around the area matched Lake Victoria itself? Somehow, they were getting their information and tips correctly and Vivian hoped that the order hadn't managed to salvage a POE themselves. Such a discovery could prove a hindrance to their team since that was their advantage over them.

She squeezed his shoulders in an affectionate play, cursing the lack of having muscles herself, and purred with a low tone, "Well, I hope I can make the journey less hazardous for you. My sisters and I are very good at what we do here."

Leaning against the man from behind, she draped herself over his shoulder with a smile and purred huskily, "I will do anything your mind can imagine and I mean _anything_. I will bleep your bleepity bleep bleep and bleeping bleep it."

And that's _exactly_ how she'd write it in her diary.

Altaïr fought the urge to shake his head in shame to Vivian's charms because she apparently had a mouth to match the most lecherous man on Earth. He tuned out the rest of her words as he decided that Vivian would remain a chirpy innocent woman that poked him with fun rather than . . . the sultry harlot he'd created. Now he knew how Malik felt when she'd teased him with her witty but bold jokes. Nonetheless, he kept an eye on the two to await Vivian's signal as she tried to coax more information from their enemy. Unfortunately, she was right about the rabbit thing and longed for her walking stick to beat the man over the head when he began to have wandering hands. Well, she had pretty much offered to do unmentionable things to the man.

Taking a hilarious quote from an animated show, Vivian had crafted her rescue line specifically. She didn't appreciate having the man trying to get grabby as he pulled her towards the bed that was more than likely riddled with bodily fluids. Trying to avoid that horrible (and nauseous) scenario, she made the man's back face Altaïr's hiding spot as she stood in front of the bed to keep him fixated on her. Grabbing the tie on the top of her dress, she pretended to undo the knot while puckering her bottom lip to state suavely, "Oh no, I'm about to lose my . . . coverage."

She expected Altaïr to silently sneak against the man and do one of his awesome stealth moves that would leave figurative stars in her eyes. Instead, her rescuer practically _lunged_ at the man from behind to sink his hidden blade into the back of his heart. The force was enough to topple Vivian as the man fell forward with a dying grunt to the surprise attack and both fell onto the bed unceremoniously. It was enough to make her want to yell bleeped out words at her companion since she'd been trying avoid touching the bed in the first place! Hadn't he listened to her? No, probably not. Now, she was stuck between a bleeding dead man and a lumpy straw bed that made her want to cry aloud. The bed was one thing but having a dead man atop of her for the first time was a bit frightening since he'd been alive just a few seconds ago. Altaïr was not a man to trifle with and she witnessed his precise deadliness firsthand.

Altaïr decided to bask in his success of the night while Vivian decided that she'd be leaving him penniless tomorrow to run off with sugared goods. Did he completely forget she was being flattened under a dead Templar?

"Could you please get his carcass off me?!" Vivian requested between gritted teeth, trying very hard to ignore the dead man on top of her and scrambled away when he was removed. Quickly, she ran off to fetch her clothes and changed into her comfy robes behind the curtain to discard the awful dress. She'd have to wash her undergarments with a good scrub but was glad for the head to toe coverage. Oh, even the hood felt wonderful over her head as she felt as cozy as a newborn turtle. She hugged herself to shake away the disgust from parading herself in front of a man and the fright from being stuck under said dead man. She was thankful the dress hadn't been stained with blood since the hidden blade hadn't exited through the man's chest but Altaïr held unbelievable strength to a point she'd believed it could've pierced her own. This was not a mission she'd bounce all over the place for and stuffed the dress back where he'd found it as she shuddered, "I've never been so happy for twelfth century clothes. Let's plant a murder weapon and make the assailant a random guy or jilted lover who fled the scene."

Altaïr noticed her hasty speech as she accentuated a few vowels and heard the drawer shake as she closed it rapidly. He grabbed her hands into his to feel they were trembling and her eyes widened with surprise to his action as her lips parted lightly. Her smooth palms contrasted against his rougher skin as he grasped her smaller hands but he offered a sympathetic squeeze and softly asked, "Are you all right?"

"I don't think I'll grow used to death like you" she answered weakly since seeing a person's life wither away into nothing was not something she could shake off her back. Again, another reason she'd receive a fat 'fail' stamp on her file if she ever decided to try out for assassin camp. She appreciated his kindness to check on her but they needed to get the hell out of there quickly for both their sakes. Releasing his hands, she pointed towards the bed where the dead Templar lay and sighed shakily, "At least we have what we need so let's do this and go."

Altaïr perused through the man's pockets to find anything useful as Vivian pulled the heavy corpse higher onto the bed. She arranged the stiffening corpse to appear as if he'd been sleeping facedown when the attack occurred but made sure to leave no trace of her presence as she eyed him for any hair strands. When ready, they untied the unconscious woman that lay in the washtub (she'd shaken her head to the poor woman because nobody deserved to be stuffed there) and draped her over the man. They wanted the two to appear as a sleeping pair and Vivian rearranged the sheets with a slight grimace while Altaïr admired their handiwork. They made quite a fetching team since neither he nor Malik could get into places that were more suitable for women. Vivian shook her head in disbelief to his approving glance as she stood beside him and grasped his upper arm to hiss softly, "Don't do that. Those are the beginnings of a serial killer."

He gave her a deadpan stare since his profession required killing and stated with a wry drawl, "Well, I do kill-"

"Not innocent people" she interjected quickly to prevent stab happy assassin that would ruin the brotherhood entirely and tugged him towards the window. A smile touched her lips when she heard him fussing with a grumble of 'Vivi-_annn_' as he accentuated the last letters. Somehow, he managed to cheer her up with simple words and tones alone but she reminded firmly, "We have to finish our job here."

"Is the historian ordering her leader now? Well, I didn't think you had the gumption" he smirked haughtily to her little defiant spark and she swatted his shoulder before he squatted gracefully onto the windowsill. He grabbed the rope into his right hand to grip it securely and smirked at his feisty partner in crime. She'd done extremely well today and he was satisfied enough to say he was proud of her.

"Don't dare me to cut the rope and dirty those pretty robes of yours" she shot back wittily with a small grin since she was pretty sure he'd do a majestic backflip in midair before landing in a convenient stack of hay. Altaïr matched her competitive grin with a smirk, glad to put a smile of sorts back on her face, and descended the rope first.

Vivian's grin faltered when he descended with graceful ease to the ground and knew she'd be flopping in midair like a wet cat. The universe would implode on her if he decided to use eagle vision to find her and accidentally glimpsed underneath her skirt. After all, it had been his order that she leave her trusty breeches behind.

* * *

Vivian had been left waiting inside a wagon full of hay with the premise that the assassins would return to fetch her to attack the Templar camp. As she hid between the awful smelling bales (could hay possibly expire to resemble rotten eggs?), she noticed the two familiar figures approach her and ducked further inside to resemble a rabbit inside its burrow. If anyone dared to pull her out, she'd scream and kick straight for the crotch with her legs. Her green eyes peeked out of the hay bales (covering her nose the whole time) and blinked with bewilderment when her teammates approached the wagon. Did something happen?

Her head popped out of the hay like a curious gopher's and she balked when she noticed blood on Altaïr's sleeves as the white moonlight bathed them. Looking to Malik, his dark clothing made it hard to distinguish but his hair was wispy on the ends which meant he'd brushed it back. She highly doubted he'd doused himself in water to parade through town to sway the female masses so sweat was the obvious answer. Yep, her dear dai had done battle without her to cheer in awe.

"You . . . there was no plan to come back for me, was there?" she asked flatly about being left behind and crossed her arms for being left out of the group bonding. Or maybe the two needed male bonding. The dark crevices of her mind hopped over the other side of male bonding to delve deeper into dangerous territory and she shooed the thoughts of the two embracing out of her head. Damn you, tumblr. She shook her head to wipe her mind clear of absurdities, squashing her inner fangirl into mush, and pouted at both men for being left behind like a small puppy.

"No, you're not ready for combat, Vivian" Malik answered gently with his older brother tone since she always tagged along to help but she wasn't ready to face enemies. The village outside Giza had been an exception since their forces had been outnumbered by his and Altaïr's experience but they would never head into battle with a civilian in tow. The Templars would never be underestimated and although their numbers were trickling down, neither man would leave her alone with one enemy for more than a minute. He rapped the top of her head gently in the same manner Altaïr used when he was ready to lecture and stated matter-of-factly, "You need to keep training to defend yourself and we don't want you to be a close combatant."

"I'll leave all that goodness for you two" she sighed softly since she wanted to lend a hand but it was better to be alive than dead. She wasn't looking forward to gutting somebody and didn't want the same on her end so she'd stick to her old decoy tactics. Either way, she was happy to escape the wagon of hay as she hopped out and landed unsteadily due to its height. Altaïr grasped her shoulders to stop her wobbling before she tipped over and she straightened her legs to keep her joints locked. She hoped her clothes wouldn't linger with the smell of hay for too long since she and Malik couldn't stand it. Shaking the sleeves of her robes to throw off hay that stuck to the gray fabric, she piped up with a bright smile, "So, where to?"

"We're leaving tonight, the Nile will carry us upstream and we will make camp for the night" Altaïr ordered quickly to hasten their escape since multiple deaths would be drawing eyes in the small town. They wouldn't be pinpointed since their camp was miles away and they'd never spoken to anyone so they were in the clear.

"We've never traveled by night" Vivian stated worriedly since the fear of tipping over ravenous crocodiles at night was terrifying since a simple thud could turn deadly. It was bad enough to travel over water during the day but the night would hinder their vision since they weren't nocturnal. She frowned at having to row into water that only had moonlight illuminating their way and pointed out, "There's gators and mad hippos lurking about."

"We'll be very careful, Vivian" Altaïr assured confidently since he wouldn't let her get eaten by hungry enraged wildlife, no matter how irritating she could become. She was ready to add in a few more reasons against night travel but he pushed her onwards as he led the way out of the small trading post.

She tagged along behind him, her shorter strides catching up to his with a quick run, and declared aloud to soothe any worries, "Of course not, the mighty Altaïr is not someone you truffle with."

"Truffle?" he asked baffled to her word choices because there were sentences that truly made no logical sense. What in the world was a truffle? Months ago, he would've argued until he was red in the face to her outlandish babble to hustle her to adjust to his manner of speaking. He realized after a few weeks that the more he fought, the more he lost the battle and conceded to Vivian's quirkiness. Now, he simply allowed her little ramblings and smirked to scoff under his breath with amusement, "You're insane sometimes, Vivian."

"As a loon, you should know this . . . comedy wise" she quipped smartly with a perky little smile about her humorous nature and he ruffled her loose wavy hair. Her smile widened to show her teeth completely as she enjoyed his friendly pats on the head and sighed airily, "Don't hate my wordplay, grand master, hate the game."

"We should use torches to guide our path and prevent animals from sneaking up" Malik suggested as he took the leadership role to leave the town since the two were busy pestering themselves with humor. He never thought he'd see Altaïr turning a playful leaf in his personality but Vivian was slowly bringing his sarcastic edge to the surface. His gaze turned awkward when he noticed Altaïr kept ruffling Vivian's short locks into a large ball of frizz that resembled sheep's wool when pulled apart by a tailor's fingers.

Yes, the two were indeed turning into quite the odd pair.

"Good thinking, you'll be our lighthouse" Vivian piped up enthusiastically and pushed away Altaïr's hand from her head when she finally realized his intention. Of course, she didn't see the giant frizzy ball on top of her head and took his endless rubbing as his joke. The assassin added two more noogies onto her head to end his night and she complained with a soft whine, "You're rubbing my scalp raw."

"Exactly" he smirked with satisfaction to the added bonus to her crazy hairstyle and received an insulted 'why, you!' but he pushed her along the path.

Malik chuckled softly and hoped nobody would notice the armored robed man and the woman with a round ball of frizzy hair on her head that resembled a poodle's. For the moment, he was the sanest and most innocent appearing individual of the group.

Vivian smiled impishly as she felt her bold humor returning in full swing and asked slyly, "So, how was your date with the brothel worker? Did she set your flag on full mast? Allow your hidden blade to unsheathe? Make you howl-"

He covered her mouth to end her scandalous pseudonyms because his time with the strange woman had not been pleasant in the slightest. She grimaced immediately since he hadn't cleaned his hands after battling enemies and thinned her lips tightly as she nudged his side with her elbow. Surely, he wouldn't deny a poodle-haired woman a boon? He released her when she whimpered pleadingly and furrowed her brows to garner sympathy from the man. Wiping her mouth clean with her sleeve, she wagged a finger and chastised with a disgusting frown, "Normally, I'd be bouncing for being manhandled by you but I've no idea where those hands have been."

Having discovered that she was wary of unwashed hands, Altaïr decided to use it for his advantage. He held them out to walk towards her and like a repellant, she fled from his vicinity to avoid being smeared with anything. Today was not one of her best days as she felt like a common doormat and took refuge next to Malik. Faithful kind Malik, he'd never let anything happen to her. Altaïr frowned to her easy copout since Malik turned into a watchdog when they acted foolish in public and snorted sarcastically, "Petty move, Vivian."

"But effective" she quipped back with a proud smile and proceeded to emphasize her win with a cocky swagger. Frankly, it reminded him of an old lady walking with a broken ankle or a painful hip. Vivian forgot that neither man knew anything about the 1970s or Huggybear's pimp walk.

Malik pinched the bridge of his nose since he was exhausted after a long walk, stakeout, and eliminating enemies. He didn't need his two parrots fighting at this hour of the night and made his sentiments clear by quietly stating, "Urge to yell rising."

"We'll be good" Vivian piped up quickly to prevent a volcano eruption after what happened on the road to the pyramids. This time, she and Altaïr were too tired to create a jazzy jingle so the three walked back to camp quietly.

* * *

**A/N**: This chapter was fun to write but it took a bit to edit since I'm currently with a bad sinus infection and hate the dizzying effect it has while I type (which is why it's late). Apart from that, I had the most fun writing Altaïr's reaction to physical contact with a stranger and Vivian's decoy uses. Somewhere in the far away future, Ezio is giving them a thumb's up for playing streetwalkers to get the job done. Lol. Next time, we'll have baby Darim make his entrance to the world and a bonding moment between Altaïr and Vivian after he kills her forest friend- among other things.

_WhatTheCensoredXD_: I'm glad everyone loves that witty little woman but unfortunately, she has no Facebook account. Knowing Vivian's tendency to live in libraries, she'd rather research on a computer. Lol. Since I'm planning on a sequel, she'll be explaining a lot of things to Altaïr when he steps into her shoes and he becomes addicted to soap operas and water faucets. Hopefully, he won't think a modern toilet is a water basin for drinking. XD

_xVentressx_: It did the same to me when I was writing its craziness too. Lol

_noveltycourage_: Thank you for having this story as your favorite, I'm glad the characters and chapters delight you. I have a different issue with ffnet since I use my iPad to read and constantly have to log in just to favorite stories. I hope you liked this chapter too!

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: Thanks, I love doing the best with each chapter and constatnyly ask myself 'how can I make it better?'. In the next chapter, they're near the year marker of knowing each other and they've come a long way since the story began- especially Altaïr and Vivian. Vivian can poke her little jokes and take his own witty replies but the two definitely watch over each other. It will continue throughout the chapters until Vivian recognizes she sees him as more than a friend because he's no longer the fictional character she admired but a human man with flaws just like her.

_Polinka123_: I agree with you on the Washington/Connor pairing, that's a huge age gap and the fact Connor kept getting the bad end of the stick most of the time would not give Washington an allure factor for him. Thank you so much for loving my tales, I craft them to the best of my abilities to suit each story background. This story is definitely full of humor as it pokes at Altaïr's cranky side and Connor definitely needs loving in all forms. Since Ubisoft pretty much stated that he's a virgin to the end of the game, that puts a hamper on poor Caroline and I'm sure Connor is kicking a box somewhere. lol

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: This trio gets in a lot of crazy spots and I've yet to reach the chapter where Altaïr plays a fisherman for a few weeks and Vivian impersonates a man to get a job. Don't worry; I'm sure a lot of the readers have been in your situation since some scenes are wacky. Vivian mentions Ezio to Altaïr but she never really implies deeper to who he is due to her fear of altering the future. Since she 'landed' in his world during December 2009 and the news about Ezio not being a blood relation of Altaïr's came in 2011 (that's the earliest I could find) before Revelations, she knows nothing about it. In her current mindset, the two are related so she'll be in for a _huge_ surprise when he gets back home and realizes her nagging was for nothing.

_KrnYong_: I'm glad to know about it since I've never tried it. Vivian's such a little bookworm that she'd be interested in just about anything in Altaïr's world. Haha. She'll be making animals friends named Shmoopy and Rigby in the next chapter so she's always humorously cooky. Their relationship is definitely altering as we'll see the thawing of his icy façade in the following chapters since their isolated travels will bring them closer together. As for bad OC's, I've read my own share too but half-naked women and shape shifters is where I draw the line on sanity.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Somehow, I can imagine Vivian declaring 'challenge accepted' since she's always eager to prove herself to Altaïr for respect points. She always uses Ezio as her escape fantasy when she wants to wipe her mind clean and it's humorous when Altaïr begins to become jealous of him because he wants to be number one (unbeknownst to him, he already is). You'll definitely start noticing private comments from either as the chapters' progress as they grow closer to their little romance.

_coporal cat_: They definitely are an awesome trio or as Vivian would say 'the three Musketeers or three Amigos'. :D

* * *

**Next Time**: _Pets Galore & Baby Darim_

The trio had now counted a total of ten months on the road, give or take a few days, and the enduring warm weather had turned Vivian's beige complexion a shade darker from the sun exposure. Both Malik and Altaïr had now clocked in their birthday card to turn twenty-eight while Vivian turned twenty-two as the year 1193 was in full force. Since Roman calendars weren't used, she pinpointed the month as either May or June. She couldn't believe she was close to spending her first year in the Middle Ages and was actually living to tell the tale. Well, she almost pushed it when she made a paper triangle hat with a drawn smiley face for Altaïr's birthday many months ago but survived. The man turned into a mewling kitten when you cooked him food, especially lamb, and she'd taken note to prevent a meltdown.

"I would really like to see some rain" Malik commented with a woeful sigh since he'd borne heat waves that he didn't think were possible. The fact that mosquitoes buzzed more frequently near the riverbanks were incredibly annoying and Vivian was on high alert. They couldn't catch malaria in the middle of nowhere since the cure would be very hard to find since they weren't anywhere near quinine. Instead, Vivian had taken to using garlic and lemon juice as a natural repellant while washing their clothes in rosemary infused water. The men had to hand it to their little bookworm because otherwise, they'd be bedridden and awaiting death during the first month of mosquito season. They'd literally encountered a thick cloud of the buggers when docking at the riverbank and had run to make their camp further inland.

Vivian whimpered under her hood as her cheeks were rosy pink from the heat and lamented, "I miss ice cream . . . why was I hurled into such an archaic era? At least Ezio's could've made me gelato with a come hither look- all you give me are ferocious looks."

"I am so tired of hearing about Ezio's and his greatness because he's nothing but a sleeping mat for lusty women" Altaïr grumbled apathetically since the man failed to leave Vivian's list of fictional heroes and was ready to chuck his hood into the river. He knew his era wasn't the best when compared to any future century where everything was better and the heat wasn't making it better. If he had the power, he'd blast himself to a breezy isolated island where only he and his falcon lived.

"And you're not?" she grinned mischievously as she mimicked his gruff tone by deepening her vocal tone to low timbre and wagged her brows to flirt, "Maria, although we were enemies and all, let's roll in a bale of hay where we play find the hidden blade. This time, it's the one in my pants."

She received a whack from his oar to her left leg for her brazen comments while Malik hid his laughter with snickering. Whenever she spoke of others in a humorous setting like that, he had no issue, but involving herself in it. . .he turned into a papa wolf. Vivian's fingers rubbed the wet skirt over her legs to spread the cool water over her hidden skin and she smirked slyly, "Ha! I welcome the wet splatter, my friend. Now onto Adha: Hey baby, we already know each other amicably so let's-"

"Who in blazes is Adha?" Altaïr asked incredulously since the name failed to register in his mind at all. He never tried to ignore that he shared a past with Maria, both antagonistic and romantic, but he'd never heard of the other woman. Had Vivian decided to throw in fictional women to further humiliate him?

Her green eyes blinked comically underneath her hood, resembling an owl in the darkness, and believed she'd heard wrong. The woman was in a game, after all! Her brow furrowed with confusion and she supplied helpfully, "You know, that woman that was supposed to be the holy chalice itself? A POE? You were tracking her down like a madman on sugar because you were apparently madly in love with her and had to rescue her. Well, it didn't say you were madly in love but I'm obviously exaggerating for comedy points."

Her shoulders sagged as she looked at the assassin closely as he faced her while rowing over the side. She had his full attention and she was inclined to believe he was being truthful on the matter but his piercing stare was quite hard to decipher. Hers hands fidgeted over her knees as she furrowed her brow and sighed for a little help, "I can't. . .it's hard to tell your happy face from your 'everything is at peace' face. Even your rage and mild rage is hard to discern!"

"I think you're mistaken for another game or one of those horrible fanfictions" Altaïr stated calmly with a faint smile because it sounded ridiculous in his head. Women informants of their order were very careful since they were rarely utilized and when they were, nobody noticed them. They were everyday women and if they ever required help, an assassin would be nearby. They never led them close to Templars themselves, only their lackeys or informants. He flicked his thumb towards the dai, who decided to douse his hood with water from the river, and stated matter-of-factly, "I've never met anyone by that name, you can as Malik."

"He's right and I know _everyone_" he piped up amicably with a confident smile since he socialized more with their brotherhood than Altaïr. Whenever the man had been invited to venture to the village, he made up an excuse, or when they drank, he left to study in the library. The man could've truly been the monk he dressed as if he'd been a civilian. He smirked mischievously as he glanced at Vivian and added in slyly, "He's also very horrible with women. He left his journals everywhere so I pretty much knew the ones he swooned. . .which sadly, weren't very many."

"How dare you read my diary-" Altaïr exclaimed indignantly with mortified shock about his past writing back in Masyaf before 1190 and quickly corrected his words to sound masculine, "_Journal_- my journal?!"

"It wasn't hard to find. . .and you left them _open_" Malik pointed out flatly to his tendencies to run out of their shared room to head downstairs to eat in the dining hall. It's not like he actually looked for them, they were right there on his friend's bed! He really didn't want to know about his first kiss and how his head hit the poor village girl in the nose.

Vivian couldn't believe her ears and coughed as she was flabbergasted by the strange yet joyous news. Oh, she could hear a hallelujah choir somewhere! She'd read about the game and its plot, sounding completely absurd to her as to how a person could be an item of power. Even as a wielder, they'd have been able to escape Templars. Quite honestly, it had sounded like a Sue story straight out of fanfiction- especially when Altaïr acted OOC by blurting out an assassin's password of all things in public. Yes, he'd been teeming with arrogance by that time but the private snafu in Solomon's Temple varied to a public scenario.

Altaïr blinked awkwardly to the eerily wide smile on her face and she gushed with relief, "Oh, thank goodness. It was such a strange game they attached to your awesome name for profit. I'll spare you the horror and tell you the whole point was about rescuing a woman that claimed that and she told you to kill this traitor that was your second-in-command and-"

"We killed him- shot him off his horse and he broke his neck" Malik quickly informed as he relaxed against the side of the boat to hear this conversation. Vivian winced to that painful death since she'd rather die from a wound than have her neck broken. After seeing way too many Bruce Lee movies, she wanted to avoid such a death.

Vivian formed a circle with her lips as that piece of history varied from her own timeframe but continued on, "Apparently, you were madly in love with her and didn't hesitate to show off your fancy acrobatic moves of bodacious awesomeness-"

She hesitated as he shot her an irritated glare as she treaded near her exaggerated narrator's voice and cleared her throat, "Then you were super melancholic about finding her after she was kidnapped into a boat- again! You'd think the woman would've stuck close to you or stuck to a safe zone rather than let you go after the villain. Of course, you promised this super dramatic and romantic 'I'll find you!' and the game ended. We later learned she died so what the hell was the point of the Chalice in the first place?! I can rest happy knowing that only Maria has been deemed worthy of 'Altaïr's Seal of Love' so my ovaries can cry happily."

"There is absolutely no way a human can have the powers of an extinct race that could surpass mine and wielding a piece will save you out of the toughest binds if you're a descendant" Altaïr commented swiftly as he shook his head to the ridiculous idea and hoped they hadn't made him bed that woman as well in the game. Didn't that game company have enough showing the conquests of the sexual deviant known as Ezio? He began rowing again to rid himself of that annoying fact but couldn't help but rant, "It is absurd. How dare they make lies about my life? It's hard enough living day to day but they don't put these moments into the game. Not even my own descendants wield POE-like abilities or claim to. It's blasphemous, it's-"

"An irresponsible writing team that wanted to give you a hot girl to play hide the soap with?" she stated sarcastically and his face fell to her crude words. With the passage of time, Vivian had become rather liberal with her tongue but words relating to sexual relations unsettled him. He preferred it when she was witty and eager to please him (platonically, of course) since she was more manageable then. She hugged herself with joy since attempting to do that on him would have her swimming with the hippos and grinned, "I'm beaming with joy to know that wasn't true. Oh, if only your fans could hear of it- some would rejoice, others would cry blasphemy for being robbed of a nice rear end. Not as nice as Miranda Lawson's never-ending debut in Mass Effect gameplay but-"

"Vivian, what have I told you about commenting on people's bodies" Malik lectured gently before his friend snapped at her and she smiled innocently. She loved having a wingman that would protect her from being verbally mauled by the stern eagle.

"But the _pri-i-i-ize_!" she emphasized dramatically as she bit her bottom lip in reference to her favorite game besides Assassin's Creed. What would await her in Mass Effect 3? Or AC 3? Wow, she was waiting for a lot of trilogies, wasn't she? Was Facebook still popular? Would her comfy Snuggie survive through the years? Had reality TV finally been blocked off the air to stop killing the remaining brain cells in American society? If not, she was perfectly fine where she was. Then again, she longed to see her sisters and hear her father's voice.

* * *

_Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I was absolutely joyous, so tune in next time for more wackiness to take a break from reality. :)_


	30. Pets Galore & Baby Darim

**Pets Galore and Baby Darim  
**

* * *

_Masyaf, Syria_

"All I'm asking is to journey below to the village for items" Maria explained exasperatedly since being locked up in a fortress was driving her insane after many months. Given the fact that she was ready to pop any day now, she wanted one last walk that wouldn't leave her bored out of her mind. There were only so many books she could read and livestock to visit before she found life tedious inside Masyaf's walls. She really thought the fortress would keep her mind rooted due to its safety but a month prior, that glass overflowed. Being an active woman, she longed to travel the land and see sights most women wouldn't be able to. Why did impending motherhood call for light walks and no strenuous work? The female body should've been designed better by nature in her opinion. Templars and a pregnancy had put an abrupt end to her journeying and she sighed aloud, "Being pregnant is not a sentence to isolate me."

"You could fall and where would that leave you?" Ilias asked calmly since he wasn't letting her go out under any circumstance and always turned to possible scenarios to make her think. The child was the grand master's and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to it or risk Altaïr's ire. Maria narrowed her gray eyes since she'd always managed to put Altaïr under her thumb since stubbornness was his downfall but Ilias didn't hold any of it. It was hard for her to pinpoint his weakness to make him tumble since he was so eerily calm and rarely prone to anger- he was a damn conundrum!

"I'm not careless, I-" she began irritably but stopped a second later when she felt something rip inside of her, leading her to touch her stomach with worry. What just happened? A second later, her water broke and covered the floor with translucent liquid as it landed with a wet plop. Maria could only stare in bewilderment to the sudden change in her pregnancy and cursed her luck. Really? Now, of all times?

Ilias wore the same expression toward the puddle and the shocked Maria to state amusingly, "Well, it seems the baby doesn't want to wander today either."

"Very funny" Maria shot back with a sharp tone since having a child had not been in today's itinerary and knew she'd never see the outside of her room for weeks. She'd really wanted a few more days to herself before she began motherly duties and rocked a newborn in bed. How would she bear the endless poop production? She would have to make do with the pictures stored in her memories and live again through those. Her robes had practically been soiled and she hoped the pains that burned with the strength of hot coals wouldn't leave her room worse for wear. Or worse, her. She clenched her fists in irritation to the thought of being bound to a bed rather than a fortress and declared curtly, "I wish I could beat Altaïr for putting me in this bind."

Ilias placed the comment on the impending motherhood category since his friend wasn't there to offer support and calmly said, "I'll . . . have someone clean this up."

With that said, he grabbed Maria's arm carefully to lead her back to her room for the birth. He never had many interactions with the fairer gender but Maria held herself confidently like any man and held no daintiness. A perfect example of her independency was her feeble attempt to pull away from his grasp to stand upright on her own and Maria sighed, "I can walk, Ilias."

"For now" he reminded since impending childbirth wouldn't make it easier along the way and they exited the building to head to the left. Thankfully, nobody paid the two any attention since Maria had become a common face over the last six months and she was grateful for not drawing a glance. Being in the company of either Ilias or Bashir had removed the constant eye of suspicion over her and she wouldn't press it. She didn't need gossip spreading about her wetting her skirt in broad daylight and winced when she felt her first contraction. This day would not bode well for her but she'd bear it with a head raised high rather than wallow in misery.

He took the emptiest paths towards the housing wing of the fortress and kept her out of sight as he took on the responsibility of caring for her. Normally, this would have her fussing as he took away her independence but she would make an exemption for today. Maria had slowly grown to be an acquaintance since she spent most of her time in the library below his temporary workplace and turned to him for conversation to pass the time. Some saw her as standoffish due to her serious demeanor but Ilias saw through the mask since she was a woman living among men and had to maintain that foothold. It was an admirable trait to have in his opinion but society placed women in the home rather than walking side by side along men as partners. Their footsteps picked up dirt from the paths in their haste to lead her to her quarters and Ilias promised, "I will fetch a midwife and our doctor to care for you."

"I can't have a baby now, I wanted to explore" she sighed with disappointment since she was caring for two now and her shoulders sagged to the lost opportunity. Was it too much to ask for a single day enjoying the open outdoors? She couldn't help but peer over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure the paths were clear of anyone that could see her rear end. Being known as the woman who wet her skirt was not a good reputation and she murmured under her breath, "People are going to see my wet robe, you know."

"There's rarely anyone around and I know these paths" he pointed out calmly to keep her stress level down to a minimum and opened the wooden door by its metal latch to pry it open. He ushered her inside first like any gentleman and Maria's tense shoulders relaxed when nobody was in view in the hallway. It was practically deserted- thank goodness! Ilias noticed her relaxed stance as her pinched face smoothed to clear away her visible worry and he smiled sympathetically, "You must learn to trust me, Maria. I've known these passages since childhood and wouldn't lead you astray."

He was surprised to hear her soft voice as they continued walking in the silent hallway when she admitted, "I do trust you . . . please believe me."

It wasn't often that she uttered those words but they served to reinforce their friendship since it wasn't every day that an assassin helped you through childbirth. Since it was the middle of the day, the hallways were empty of the wing's inhabitants and there were no issues leading her home. Maria lived on the second floor since everyone clearly didn't want her on the first due to easy escape attempts. Ilias, however, seeing that she was expecting a child, decided to compromise by placing her on the second rather than the last fourth floor. He wasn't about to push the poor woman into an early delivery. She appreciated everything he'd done for her but she always wondered if it was for her wellbeing as a friend or per Altaïr's orders.

Maria hadn't exactly had a whirlwind romance with the man that left her longing for him and preferred to keep him as a partner in crime (with benefits, if the need arose). Altaïr was a good man but there were instances that left her grasping her hair to his odd quirks (why wear imported white fabrics if you'd spend a day washing it?!) and doubted he'd become husband material. He _had_ left her on a rooftop in Acre with absolutely no information on where to be found, after all. He'd been honorable by offering to marry her to protect her reputation but Maria believed she was strong enough to care for herself and her baby. Nonetheless, she considered herself lucky for having Altaïr in her life because shelter would've been impossible if they'd left on bad terms. She acknowledged she could be a bit tenacious but Altaïr had seen past that and he'd become a good acquaintance to rely on. She'd make sure to include him in their child's life and hoped that he was safe wherever he was since she couldn't protect his back like she used to (hopefully, Malik and the foreigner would do so).

Her wooden door creaked open as Ilias pushed it and Maria waddled inside as sweat began to accumulate on her brow from the walk with contractions beginning to discomfort her. Bed was a glorious relief to her since walking seemed to aggravate her contractions and wanted to be off her feet. Ilias allowed her to get settled in as he left to retrieve the medical team to help and Maria watched the door close with a small sigh. She didn't want to be left alone for this, no matter what she said, and longed to have someone by her side to comfort her. Although her family had disinherited her for leaving, Maria couldn't help but want her mother to offer words of advice. Anything was better than the suffocating silence of the room as she suffered through her contractions.

"Ugh, I must be delirious" she muttered grimly since her mother had said nothing in her favor when her father cast her out for divorcing her husband. She would be a better mother by letting her child explore all of their options in life and love them, even when they made mistakes. People were only human, after all.

Being alone in the room, she decided to change her clothes and slip into comfortable robes before everyone returned. Hopefully, delivering the child wouldn't be too bad since she'd borne wounds worse than birthing a little human.

* * *

She was absolutely stupid for believing that childbirth could ever match a wound given by a weapon. Children were _ten_ times worse than that! By the time Ilias had returned, she had twisted the linen sheets into resembling rope and felt inclined to rip the child out of herself for the horrible pain. Where was Altaïr when she needed to kick him in the groin? Oh, how she hoped somebody or something granted that mercy to her.

Being among strangers didn't make her the least bit comfortable and the pain coursing through her entire body heightened her suspicion of them. She recognized the doctor that treated her but the older woman was a mystery to her. What if she was a Templar and recognized her? What if-

"Maria, stop glaring murder at them" Ilias calmed with a steady voice that broke through her hormone induced distrust as he sat beside her and placed a cool hand on her sweaty back. The difference in temperature was bliss against her hot flesh and she wished he would've rubbed circles to dull away the pain in her spine. Being a respectable woman, she refused to so but listened to his advice. Oh, how she wished somebody would place a cool cloth on her head.

"Everything will be fine" the plump midwife assured the expecting mother as she placed clean sheets on a nearby chair since labor was not quick or clean. Maria was ready to snap that she better think again because what she was enduring could only be called torture most foul. The doctor, someone she thankfully recognized, had cared for her pregnancy throughout the months so she'd have to place her trust in him. Otherwise, she would've been eyeing the man with the same critical eye as she had with the woman. She was glad that Ilias would stay-

"Ilias, it's time for us to begin but we will call you if anything happens" the doctor informed as he finished washing his hands at the water basin and the assassin nodded quietly. Well, that cut her thoughts short with a rusty sword. Ilias stood up with a sympathetic glance at Maria since it was time to make his exit but admitted privately that he would've preferred to stay. Although she didn't appear visibly frightened, her eyes gave away her conflicting emotions as she clutched the sheets distressingly with white knuckles.

"Wait, where are you going?" she questioned swiftly with worry mixing into her normally steady voice as she watched him move towards the door to exit. In an uncharacteristic move, Maria's left hand shot out to grasp the back of his white robes in a vice grip to keep him rooted beside her. Forget propriety, she wanted the only person she trusted in that fortress to comfort her when she needed it the most.

"Men aren't allowed in a room during birth" he replied regrettably and her eyes widened since she didn't want to be by herself to endure the torture of labor. Being more akin to walking in a man's shoes rather than a woman's, Maria had only known about a wedding night and being a wife when she first married. Childbirth, on the other hand, was completely new to her and she was left in the dark as she learned everything along the way. Ilias disentangled her hand from his clothing but squeezed it to offer both his support and condolences at having to leave her alone.

"But . . . you can't just leave" she murmured quietly with insistence but he assured her everything would be fine and he'd be outside the door like he promised. Maria would've rather had him inside where she could see him and clutched the sheets tighter as she stared at her pregnant belly. This was not how she'd expected her delivery to be and refused to look at his retreating back. The door closed shut to signal that he'd left her alone to fend for herself in this birth but she'd handle it as best she could. The midwife offered a faint smile as Maria kept quiet about her worries and assumed Ilias was the husband of the distraught Englishwoman.

Maria's fair cheeks flushed even pinker when the midwife commented softly, "I'll make this as easy as it can be but I assure you your husband won't be far."

_Husband? She thinks. . .well, nowadays, I'd be stoned for having a child out of wedlock_, Maria pondered as she found herself in a sticky predicament and decided to seize the assumption as an opportunity. Altaïr was nowhere to be found on their continent and Ilias had become the person to confide in when she needed a helping hand. It also helped tremendously that the latter man didn't glare most of the time and didn't leave her alone to fight off bats.

"Yes, now would you kindly get this baby out of me?" Maria asked with a pained grunt as another contraction struck and hated the incapacitating sensation. Oh, she wanted to curse Altaïr's name for this and kick him in the groin to make sure he could never father more children with other women.

* * *

It was past midnight when Ilias heard a faint cry on the other side of the door and shook himself out of the quick nap he'd tried to grab while waiting. The long hours had turned tedious as he stayed posted by the door and occupied himself by either reading or pacing to pass the time. Despite all of that, his tired eyes threatened to close shut as he leaned against the door. It wasn't his child but he worried for both mother and newborn just the same after months of watching over Maria. Altaïr would be satisfied with his commitment but Ilias didn't mind keeping her company since her quiet demeanor was agreeable to his own.

He waited until the door was opened to await the news since he couldn't enter until the child was cleanly tucked in a blanket. Ilias was in no hurry since he would've been useless anyway and more than likely, winced at the sight of a child being born. He'd seen animals being born in the village below and if it was similar to that . . . he was best left outside.

"You may come in now" the midwife invited kindly as she opened the door to allow him inside and Ilias implemented his assassin training by walking cautiously. After hearing so many shouts and cries from Maria, he expected a bloodbath inside the room but everything had been placed in a basket for disposal. It didn't even appear as if the room had borne a child minutes ago as Maria lay comfortably in her bed underneath the blankets but her round face was tinted pink with exhaustion. She never wanted to endure childbirth again for as long as she lived and was glad to be done with her pregnancy altogether. Now, she could rest comfortably in bed for as long as she wanted and take a warm bath when she was able to.

Ilias didn't care in the slightest about being mislabeled as her husband since women weren't really permitted in Masyaf unless it was ordered. For Maria's sake, he pretended in order to protect her reputation as a respectable woman since unwed mothers would bear a horrible stigma in any settlement. The doctor, Adil, knew the true nonexistent relationship between the two but said nothing to protect their brotherhood since the villagers were kept out of their affairs. He assured that the birth had gone smoothly without complications but if a fever arose with Maria, Adil needed to be called at once.

The swaddled baby in a white blanket was handed to Ilias as they cried throughout the room, little pink gums showing as the newborn's red cheeks puffed in fussiness. The midwife happily informed him it was a healthy boy and Ilias approached the tired new mother to return her son back into her rightful arms. Her long raven hair was frizzy in its long braid and her hairline sticky with damp sweat but her gray eyes were focused on the wriggling baby that held black hair similar to her. Seeing more similarities in skin and hair color, Maria expected a daughter that would one day bear her resemblance but Ilias informed her proudly, "You have a son."

. . . All right, a son that looked like her- it was all good.

"Damn right I do" Maria smiled weakly as she watched his little chubby limbs flail and wondered how a form like that fit inside the human body. The baby whimpered as she held him close to her chest and smiled fondly at seeing the little troublemaker that kicked her insides. She might not have wanted a child with Altaïr in the slightest but was hopeful she'd make a life on her own with her son. He was a handsome boy already in her eyes and traced a fingertip over his clenched fists as he whimpered. She leaned back against the pillows with a sigh to watch her newborn adjust to his new world and corrected her previous words, "I mean, his name is Darim."

"Darim Ibn-La'Ahad" Ilias tried out since his friend would be pleased to know he had a healthy son but Maria tried out her own last name in her mind: Darim _Thorpe_.

It had a better ring to it.

* * *

_Malakal, South Sudan_

"I never thought I'd say this but I'm getting tired of only seeing the river and desert" Vivian mumbled lethargically as she hung off one of the sides of the canoe with a pout. The scenery failed to change as they traveled south as the desert environment and sparse areas of vegetation failed to catch her interest. She longed to be the nervous woman that eyed everything with suspicion or the chirpy historian that didn't allow anything to escape her sight. Now, she hung limply from the side like a noodle as Altaïr allowed her to rest while he kept rowing and Vivian longed for ice cream.

"You and I both" Altaïr agreed with a frown as he rowed the boat, dressed in his assassin pants of gray but wore the sleeveless brown tunic with his armor and other fabric layers underneath it. The humid climate of Sudan had finally forced Altaïr to alter his robes for a lighter weight and sported the change after Vivian had sewed the new outfit for him. Of course, he'd fidgeted the entire time she took his measurements (he would _never_ let her sew him trousers) but she'd been able to sew it while in camp or on the canoe. Vivian was proud of her first creation as she'd worked alongside him to make a perfect copy of his white robes and the color blended seamlessly in towns while complementing his sunkissed skin. If only she could've made him strut like a model down the runway but alas, she was keen on living. As for the awesome robes that he'd donned for the past years, he carried them neatly in his pack and wore them around camp when he wanted to feel comfortable. Apparently, dressed from head to foot in layers of clothing was _comfortable_ for him while Malik's version was a simple tunic with breeches.

The trio had now counted a total of ten months on the road, give or take a few days, and the enduring warm weather had turned Vivian's beige complexion a shade darker from the sun exposure. Both Malik and Altaïr had now clocked in their birthday card to turn twenty-eight while Vivian turned twenty-two as the year 1193 was in full force. Since Roman calendars weren't used in their area, she pinpointed the month as either May or June. She couldn't believe she was close to spending her first year in the Middle Ages and was actually living to tell the tale. Well, she almost pushed it when she made a paper triangle hat with a drawn smiley face for Altaïr's birthday many months ago but survived unscathed. The man turned into a mewling kitten when you cooked him food, especially lamb, and she'd taken note to prevent a meltdown.

"I would really like to see some rain" Malik commented with a woeful sigh since he'd borne heat waves that he didn't think were possible. The fact that mosquitoes buzzed more frequently near the riverbanks were incredibly annoying and Vivian was on high alert. They couldn't catch malaria or yellow fever in the middle of nowhere since the cure would be very hard to find since they weren't anywhere near quinine. Instead, Vivian had taken to using garlic and lemon juice as a natural repellant while washing their clothes in rosemary infused water. The men had to hand it to their little bookworm because otherwise, they'd be bedridden and awaiting death during the first month of mosquito season. They'd literally encountered a thick cloud of the buggers when docking at the riverbank and had bolted madly to make their camp further inland.

Vivian whimpered under her hood as her cheeks were rosy pink from the heat and lamented, "I miss ice cream . . . why was I hurled into such an archaic era? At least Ezio could've made me gelato with a come hither look- all you give me are ferocious looks."

"I am so tired of hearing about Ezio's and his greatness because he's nothing but a sleeping mat for lusty women" Altaïr grumbled apathetically since the man failed to leave Vivian's list of fictional heroes and was ready to chuck his hood into the river. He knew his era wasn't the best when compared to any future century where everything was better and the heat wasn't making it better. If he had the power, he'd blast himself to a breezy isolated island where only he and his falcon lived. Okay, he'd invite Malik along but only if he didn't nag him.

"And you're not?" she grinned mischievously as she mimicked his gruff tone by deepening her vocal tone to low timbre and wagged her brows to flirt, "Maria, although we were enemies and all, let's roll in a bale of hay where we play find the hidden blade. This time, it's the one in my pants."

She received a whack from his oar to her left leg for her brazen comments while Malik hid his laughter with snickering. Whenever she spoke of others in a humorous setting like that, he had no issue, but involving herself in it. . .he turned into a papa wolf. Vivian's fingers rubbed the wet skirt over her legs to spread the cool water over her hidden skin and she smirked slyly, "Ha! I welcome the wet splatter, my friend. Now onto Adha: Hey baby, we already know each other amicably so let's-"

"Who in blazes is Adha?" Altaïr asked incredulously since the name failed to register in his mind at all. He never tried to ignore that he shared a past with Maria, both antagonistic and romantic, but he'd never heard of the other woman. Had Vivian decided to throw in fictional women to further humiliate him? He wouldn't put anything past that witty badger.

Her green eyes blinked comically underneath her hood, resembling an owl in the darkness, and believed she'd heard wrong. The curvaceously pretty woman was in a game, after all! Her brow furrowed with confusion and she supplied helpfully, "You know, that woman that was supposed to be the holy chalice itself? A POE? You were tracking her down like a madman on sugar because you were apparently madly in love with her and had to rescue her. Well, it didn't say you were madly in love but I'm obviously exaggerating for comedy points."

Her shoulders sagged as she looked at the assassin closely as he faced her while rowing over the side. She had his full attention and she was inclined to believe he was being truthful on the matter but his piercing stare was quite hard to decipher. Hers hands fidgeted over her knees as she furrowed her brow and sighed for a little help, "I can't. . .it's hard to tell your happy face from your 'everything is at peace' face. Even your rage and mild rage is hard to discern!"

"I think you're mistaken for another game or one of those horrible fanfictions" Altaïr stated calmly with a faint smile because it sounded ridiculous in his head. Women informants of their order were very careful since they were rarely utilized and when they were, nobody noticed them. They were everyday women and if they ever required help, an assassin would be nearby to keep their identity secret. They never led them close to Templars themselves, only their lackeys or informants. He flicked his thumb towards the dai, who decided to douse his white hood with water from the river, and stated matter-of-factly, "I've never met anyone by that name, you can as Malik."

"He's right and I know _everyone_" he piped up amicably with a confident smile since he socialized more with their brotherhood than Altaïr. Whenever the man had been invited to venture to the village, he made up an excuse, or when they drank, he left to study in the library. The man could've truly been the monk he dressed as if he'd been a civilian. He smirked mischievously as he glanced at the mystified Vivian and added in slyly, "He's also very horrible with women. He left his journals everywhere so I pretty much knew the ones he swooned. . .which sadly, weren't very many."

"How dare you read my diary-" Altaïr exclaimed indignantly with mortified shock about his past writing back in Masyaf before 1190 and quickly corrected his words to sound masculine, "_Journal_- my journal?!"

"It wasn't hard to find. . .and you left them _open_" Malik pointed out flatly to his tendencies to run out of their shared room to head downstairs to eat in the dining hall. It's not like he actually looked for them, they were right there on his friend's bed! He really didn't want to know about his first kiss and how his head hit the poor village girl in the nose. As a boy, his friend thought romance meant killing a chicken and bringing it back to your significant other as proof of providing sustenance but it backfired horribly. Why? Because most boys wouldn't butcher the biggest family hen that provided the village with eggs. Needless to say, Malik spent a week hearing Altaïr's miserable woe about losing the only person in the world who would ever love him . . . at _fifteen_. There was no question as to who was the sanest and mature out of the two but there had been many days when he'd wanted to stuff a sock in Altaïr's mouth (and still did).

Vivian couldn't believe her ears and coughed as she was flabbergasted by the strange yet joyous news. Oh, she could hear a hallelujah choir somewhere! She'd read about the game and its plot, sounding completely absurd to her as to how a person could be an item of power. Even as a wielder, they'd have been able to escape Templars due to its phenomenal powers. Quite honestly, it had sounded like a Sue story straight out of fanfiction- especially when Altaïr acted OOC by blurting out an assassin's password of all things in public. Yes, he'd been teeming with arrogance by that time but the private snafu in Solomon's Temple varied to a public scenario.

Altaïr blinked awkwardly to the eerily wide smile on her face and she gushed with relief, "Oh, thank goodness. It was such a strange game they attached to your awesome name for profit. I'll spare you the horror and tell you the whole point was about rescuing a woman that claimed that and she told you to kill this traitor that was your second-in-command and-"

"We killed him- shot him off his horse and he broke his neck" Malik quickly informed as he relaxed against the side of the boat to hear this conversation. Vivian winced to that painful death since she'd rather die from a wound than have her neck broken. After seeing way too many Bruce Lee movies, she wanted to avoid such a death.

Vivian formed a circle with her lips as that piece of history varied from her own timeframe but continued on, "Apparently, you were madly in love with her and didn't hesitate to show off your fancy acrobatic moves of bodacious awesomeness-"

She hesitated as he shot her another irritated glare as she treaded near her exaggerated narrator's voice and cleared her throat, "Then you were super melancholic about finding her after she was kidnapped into a boat- again! You'd think the woman would've stuck close to you or stuck to a safe zone rather than let you go after the villain. Of course, you promised this super dramatic and romantic 'I'll find you!' and the game ended. We later learned she died so what the hell was the point of the Chalice in the first place?! I can rest happy knowing that only Maria has been deemed worthy of 'Altaïr's Seal of Love' so my ovaries can cry happily."

"There is absolutely no way a human can have the powers of an extinct race that could surpass mine and wielding a piece will save you out of the toughest binds if you're a descendant" Altaïr commented swiftly as he shook his head to the ridiculous idea and hoped they hadn't made him bed that woman as well in the game. Didn't that game company have enough material with showing the conquests of the sexual deviant known as Ezio? Did they have no respect to grant him a celibate life? He began rowing again to rid himself of that annoying fact but couldn't help but rant, "It is absurd. How dare they make lies about my life? It's hard enough living day to day but they don't put those grueling moments into the game. Not even my own descendants wield POE-like abilities or claim to and not every human can use one of their items. It's blasphemous, it's-"

"An irresponsible writing team that wanted to give you a hot girl to play 'hide the soap' with?" she offered sarcastically with a sympathetic face and his own fell to her crude words. With the passage of time, Vivian had become rather liberal with her tongue but words relating to sexual relations unsettled him. He preferred it when she was witty and eager to please him (platonically, of course) since she was more manageable then. She hugged herself with joy since attempting to do that on him would have her swimming with the hippos and grinned, "I'm beaming with joy to know that wasn't true. Oh, if only your fans could hear of it- some would rejoice, others would cry blasphemy for being robbed of a nice rear end. Not as nice as Miranda Lawson's never-ending debut in Mass Effect gameplay but-"

"Vivian, what have I told you about commenting on people's bodies" Malik lectured gently before his friend snapped at her and she smiled innocently. She loved having a wingman that would protect her from being verbally mauled by the stern eagle.

"But the _pri-i-i-ize_!" she emphasized dramatically as she bit her bottom lip in reference to her favorite game besides Assassin's Creed. What would await her in Mass Effect 3? Or AC 3? Wow, she was waiting for a lot of trilogies, wasn't she? Was Facebook still popular? Would her comfy Snuggie survive through the years? Had reality TV finally been blocked off the air to stop killing the remaining brain cells in American society? If not, she was perfectly fine where she was. Then again, she longed to see her sisters and hear her father's voice- life had become a catch 22!

Altaïr ignored her outrageous facial expression as she resembled one of the beggars that harassed him and asked curtly, "Has there been anyone else I apparently saved and bedded in return?"

"Nope, there's been quite a few changes from the game- plus, you're grouchier than stoic digital Altaïr" she chuckled softly and liked this guy better than the digital copy due to his quirks since the man was human, after all. He had slowly changed from the figurative crab he resembled to become a bear that only lashed out when poked and she found herself enjoying that transition in their odd friendship. She smiled wittily as the man rowed and could already see the stern glare on his face since his shoulders were squared in annoyance. Months of familiarity had allowed her to pick up his body language for deciphering and she piped up, "You're much better than the written Altaïr, rough around the edges without the stiff personality. Plus, Ubisoft seems to whiten your outfit with every game. Don't they know that it's baby gray in high definition with all the dust-"

He stuffed a piece of torn fabric into her mouth to silence her rambles and took the chance to state, "I've heard enough about my game life inconsistencies for today, Vivian. I wouldn't leave my target alone to kill one single man when their entire group can spring upon the person. It's careless and irresponsible."

Vivian spit out the wad of cloth with disgust as lint stuck to her tongue but it didn't deter her from adding in brightly, "Don't forget that we have no circuses in the Middle East. History dates them only within Europe after the fall of the Roman Empire and even then, they were scarce and only went to fairs or towns in Europe. They only began to flourish in the 14th century, that's way into the future! And second, _Europe_- not Syria!"

Altaïr couldn't help but smirk to her outraged tone about historical inaccuracies as she rambled, "And sewers? We had no sanitary systems until the 1900s to prevent disease in crowded cities. If we had sewers, why the hell would we need outhouses right now? I'd kill for a toilet right now! Diseases wouldn't have ravaged life so much from the benefits of having sewers! Historical cultures like Crete only had runoff storm drain systems- those existed- but never, _ever_ any sewers that transported you under buildings like in the modern days!"

Empty of the hot air building in her head about the questions that plagued her after playing, she lay back against Altaïr and smiled at being allowed refuge. Usually, he flicked her off like a flea or growled but he simply kept rowing as she shared his sentiments about that fictional tale. Her slumped body reminded Malik of a sleeping drunk as she huddled against the assassin and she whimpered, "Thank you for saving my sanity by never having done any of that. You are even _more_ awesome now."

"I would've certainly lost mine if I had witnessed it" Altaïr remarked with amusement and tightened his grip on the oars when the current shook them slightly. Hmm, it hadn't been strong at all that particular day as the recent sunny weather kept it calm and decided it was a random occurrence.

Malik, however, noticed a shadow lurking in the water that wasn't from their boat and nervously alerted, "Altaïr, you might want to row faster."

"Why-" Altaïr began but the water erupted from behind to show a hippopotamus . . . and a _mad_ one, at that. Its little purple ears flicked back in rage as water dripped from its large body and its large jaws parted to show its two long yellowed teeth on its lower jaws. As if that wasn't frightening enough, the spacious area of its mouth would've chewed Vivian in one bite.

"Crap, we didn't run over their baby, did we?" Vivian asked fearfully as she bolted forward to a safer spot to row and gave it all she had to escape. Altaïr didn't really care why it was mad, he just wanted it gone! They'd expected to fight crocodiles when they'd traversed the Nile in Egypt but never a hippopotamus in Sudan.

"A little faster, Altaïr!" Malik shouted hurriedly as the creature was gaining speed toward their boat and was only a few feet away. It tiny brown eyes had targeted their little boat for annihilation and Malik was not about to be its first meal. Dying at the mouth of a hippopotamus was _not_ the way he wanted to die and used Vivian's walking stick to poke its upper jaw in an attempt to make it leave. Quite frankly, it only served to enrage it further and he longed for his left arm for the first time since leaving because he really didn't want to be swallowed if the boat lurched forward.

"_Oh my god, row the boat_!" Vivian screamed frantically when the hippopotamus bit into the end of the canoe to clamp on for the ride and she didn't want the animal to tip it over. If it did, they were done for. She thought of handing over her oar for an extra swatting weapon against the beast since Malik's jabs weren't making it release them.

"I am rowing, you banshee!" Altaïr hollered back swiftly as wariness trickled into his voice and she used all of her strength to row until her shoulder joints ached. Malik decided that prodding it in the face was not helping in the slightest and abandoned that plan as he yelled at the animal to leave them alone. It wouldn't understand a single word but it helped to vent his frustration on it, especially when staring at possible death in the eye. He had to do something courageous to save his comrades; otherwise, they would all be thrown into the river and that could be a death sentence.

Unsheathing his hidden blade, he swiped a gash across their purple snout to draw blood but it was enough to catch the animal by surprise. He was careful not to harm their nostrils but he was determined to prove he wasn't a defenseless meal and maintain dominance over the hippo. True, he wasn't small but snakes killed humans with ease every day so he'd be the furious snake this time. He added another shorter swipe since he didn't want to kill the poor animal but if it didn't let go-

"Go away!" Vivian shouted shrilly with all her might to see if it would help and dropped her oars to rip open their food pack. Altaïr protested angrily for the abandoned post since the lack of help would slow him down but Vivian grasped a small wooden jar to open it. She crawled over to Malik as he leaned carefully over the canoe and grabbed hold of the boat to pour acidic lemon juice over its eyes from one of their food jars. The hippopotamus decided to abandon the fight as it growled angrily to the stinging in its reddening eyes, receding back into the foaming water and Altaïr rowed faster than was humanly possible.

Vivian returned to her spot to join him and together, their little canoe- which now sported teeth marks- carried on upstream to southern Sudan. She didn't want to hurt the animal but she also liked living so she had to make the sacrifice. Her poor heart was pounding like a jackhammer in her chest, threatening to spill up her throat, and she tried her hardest not to hyperventilate from that horrible situation.

"Ubisoft can definitely use hippos if they ever put you in a game based in Africa, _that's_ historically accurate" Vivian commented weakly as she tried therapeutic breathing to calm her heart and rooted herself directly in the middle of the boat rather than the sides. Hippos were frightening up close and she decided to never see one in a zoo or television show ever again to avoid nightmares. Malik, however, would rather tangle with a wild cat that he could fight on land rather than a creature of the murky water. Was it too late to switch to land travel?

Altaïr decided to break the suspenseful silence that enacted after the ordeal and slowly drawled, "You threw away the lemon juice, didn't you?"

When Vivian didn't reply, he took it as positive affirmation to his question and groaned miserably, "Vivian, you know I use it on cucumbers!"

"I'd rather live than marinate food for you in heaven" she pouted with a dry tone since she wanted a decent grave for her future children to visit one day rather than be crapped out as a hippo's lunch. That was _not_ the best way to go out of the world into whatever afterlife existed- if any. Being eaten alive by wildlife was not on her list of top ways to die and stood by her decision to dump the lemon juice. If he didn't like that, he could lump it and join the hippo.

She waved a hand to regain their calm and witty aura once more and piped up impishly, "Besides, isn't this," she motioned the distance between them with one hand and grinned, "more important to salvage than a bottle of lemon juice. You can't replace what we have."

Malik quirked an eyebrow to her last comment and Vivian quickly corrected, "Comedy wise, Malik, comedy wise."

Altaïr wasn't impressed by her humorous word play and decided to play her game by baiting with an apathetic voice, "No, I'd rather have the lemon juice. It doesn't prod or nag me."

"I hope you get eaten alive by a hippo" she muttered flatly but smiled underneath her hood, bringing a smaller version to his face. Yep, they were two peas in one crazy pod now.

* * *

Altaïr was gathering firewood one afternoon to prepare for their supper fire when he noticed a round little creature with small quills on its back in the grass. It laid there hidden between blades of grass and he doubted it was a baby porcupine since he would've undoubtedly been chased away by an angry hissing mother by now. It wasn't bigger than his palm but it stirred his curiosity enough that he called over his right shoulder to Malik, "What is this creature?"

"Don't touch it, I'm not going to be patching you up for scuffling with wildlife again" Malik ordered swiftly as he pulled off feathers from a dead pheasant inside a bowl and briefly glanced in his direction. Everyone knew that wildlife and Altaïr made a potent concoction fixed to explode and Malik would rather have help preparing supper. On the ground, a small four-toed hedgehog lay bundled in the grass and Altaïr was threatening to poke it with one of his firewood sticks. Did the man know nothing about safety when dealing with animals? Malik exhaled through gritted teeth to his careless idea and hissed sharply to draw his attention away, "What did I _just_ say?"

Altaïr quickly put away the stick with the twig bundle to hide his intent and defended hastily, "I only wanted-"

"Anger it, have it bite you, and nag about how unfair life is?" Malik finished sarcastically since his friend failed to listen to his warnings until it was too late. Truly, he felt like a father sometimes as Altaïr carried an innocent curiosity for nature that sometimes became too much to handle. He'd grabbed a sleeping bat on a branch believing it was leathery fruit (that time, he screamed and avoided eating fruit for a week), was bitten on the finger by a bird for trying to touch it, and scratched by a rodent when he'd poked a stick into its burrow. Yet, throughout it all, he learned nothing about his mistakes. Being their amateur medic, he'd nursed cuts, bruises, rashes, and lacerations all from Altaïr alone. He didn't mind doing so but hearing him drone endlessly in rants about the horrendous cruelty of nature led him to stating firmly, "Finish your task."

Altaïr let it be . . . for now.

After sunset, the group began to cook their meal as the weather provided breezy temperatures to dry their sweaty clothing and Altaïr noticed a stirring in his peripheral vision. The strange lump began to move around in the grass and curiosity bit him once again to investigate. Surely, _one_ look couldn't do harm? Quietly, he snuck away from his friends as they pan fried the pieces of herb marinated pheasant while lentils cooked in a small pot. Altaïr was growing tired of lentils since dry foods were necessary to prevent food poisoning that the spoiling of the fresh provided but Vivian craved them without cessation. Her mother had served them when she was little, remembering helping her add little tomato slices with pride, and it always served her as a reminder of home.

He found the little creature rustling between the blades of grass and kneeled down to observe its slow movements. A tiny round black nose sniffed the air and he caught sight of two tiny glittering eyes on its face, reminding him of an assassin he once knew. He could never get the name right but the pointy nose and beady eyes led him to dubbing the man Beady. He was never very good with names in his youth and had gotten Kadar's and Malik's names reversed when they met for the first time. When he'd attempted to call Kadar 'Short Stack' and Malik 'Grouch-O', the latter threatened to hang him by his underwear outside the grand master's door.

"Didn't I tell you to leave it alone?" Malik called out in attention when he noticed the man's lingering over the grass and shook his head. He used his fingers to turn the pieces of sizzling pheasant while Vivian boiled her lentil soup but Altaïr had decided to explore on his own. There really wasn't much for him to do that day since his weapons were clean due to the lack of enemies, the tents were already set, training had finished earlier, and he'd write in his journal later on if he felt the need. Since Vivian wasn't available to trade jokes with and Malik couldn't give him attention, he sought it elsewhere.

Altaïr waved a hand in dismissal as he leaned over the little creature and found it oddly charming in its own manner. It was so small that it could've been picked off by a hawk or wildcat for food if the tree canopies didn't shade the area protectively. A rabbit had a better chance of survival than the little animal and watched its body flatten against the ground when quick footsteps headed his way. Could it shift forms like a butterfly? Since he didn't receive a kick to his spine from the newcomer, he pinpointed the person as Vivian. She clasped her hands together over her gray skirt as she leaned down towards the grass to grin cheerfully, "Hey, Shmoopy! Is Grumpy Bear bothering you?"

Altaïr realized she was talking to the _animal_ and stared at her with bewilderment as he wondered whether she crossed the line to insanity. They had been traveling for quite a while in isolation and Vivian's different time frame could fracture her sanity. Yet again, she was an oddball most of the time anyway. Vivian merely smiled with fond warmth in her eyes as she wrinkled her nose to imitate the animal and clasped him on the shoulder to inform, "He's a little hedgehog that wanders here every night. The leftovers from our food attract insects and voila, we give him dinner too. I feel bad we have to leave soon and he won't have his little morsels."

"Hedgehog is its name?" he asked curiously since he'd never seen the animal in his travels and thought it was rather cute. It seemed harmless enough and if Vivian could approach it without hesitation, so could he.

"Yes, but _I _call him Shmoopy" she grinned proudly with delight and he sighed to her outlandish names. Nobody in their right mind could understand her like he did. While he tended to approach wildlife for a closer look, she simply nicknamed them since she didn't have his awesome set of skills that would prevent her from being mauled or gored. He directed a deadpan stare to show he found the name atrocious but Vivian paid him no mind as she declared enthusiastically, "He has the cutest little face and when he moves, he goes like this."

She proceeded to wiggle her hips to the sides in wide angles and stuck her butt out in the most comical way imaginable. Somewhere in the future, dance was being butchered by her amateurish moves and he balked to her erratic dancing. Was she trying to imitate constipation? A hedgehog mating dance? He stood up straight to halt her immediately and chastised her horrible dancing skills with a scowl, "Don't shake your butt _ever_ again! You'll blind me, scar Malik, and kill Smoo- whatever he's called!"

"If you were one foot smaller, I'd kick you in the twiddle-diddles" she retorted with a humorous pout to rile his feathers a little more and watched his narrowed eyes widen into bewilderment. Sometimes, he felt the absolute need to hit his head on a tree to be rid of her strange jargon. Her eyes darted up and down his frame as she observed him for a split second before declaring uncertainly, "Then again, that would kill your future spawn and we can't have that."

Tapping her foot, she waved a hand when she couldn't think of an alternate punishment joke and sighed in defeat, "I'll, uh, get back to you on that."

"Vivian, I think you need to eat and stop being delirious" he chastised since the lack of hiking or traveling to villages in the last two weeks was leaving her full of energy. He usually had her running laps or practicing her defense tactics to leave her lethargic but Vivian carried an optimistic cheerfulness that failed to cease even at her weakest. There were times he was certain she was energy itself!

"I think you should both get over here and help" Malik insisted firmly since he only had one hand to cook with and couldn't prepare the bird or stir the lentils at the same time. He wasn't an octopus! The two had left him behind to prepare an entire meal alone while they fawned over an animal and he called out with a commanding tone, "That poor animal's frightened by the two giants arguing over it."

Vivian leaned down to smile in farewell so she could return to help her friend and whispered, "Feast well tonight, Shmoopy."

She pulled Altaïr along by the wrist since the man would've undoubtedly decided to poke the hedgehog and didn't want Shmoopy to bite him in self-defense. Nobody, man or animal, wanted to be poked like a piece of meat. He fought against her for a few seconds because he wanted to stay but conceded when she kept tugging. What was she? His mother? He wondered if the African continent contained any badgers to compare her to because she was an insistent little creature. He stepped back with great reluctance to give the hedgehog its space and Vivian mused aloud, "You think we could be a quartet? Malik, the Tremendous, Altaïr, the Bodacious, Vivian, the Badger, and Shmoopy, the Hedgehog?"

"Go cook that dead bird" he ordered flatly since she sucked the fun out of meeting new wildlife that didn't want to kill him. Vivian imitated kicking him from behind when his back turned and headed off to help Malik prepare the food. The assassin remained behind to stare at the little critter and wondered how his faithful Rafiki was faring. Knowing his falcon, he would be clawing out eyes and screeching at anyone that dared to defy him. By the creed, he loved that bird.

He missed smoothing over Rafiki's feathers when one was out of place to keep him immaculate and felt the tendency to do the same with the hedgehog. His trip was hardly half-finished and here he was, homesick for the familiar like a sentimental child. Malik caught his wandering hand once more as Altaïr leaned down absentmindedly and sharply chastised, "Get back here for the last time before I spend the night hearing your wretched groans of 'why'!"

"Shmoopy will come to us later on so don't worry!" Vivian reassured as the little animal scurried between the blades of grass to head in her direction. Altaïr could only watch its sudden movement and realized it knew her by voice since it was connected to food. Really? He was maimed and bitten by wildlife while Vivian lured them with food for exchange in pacification. She stirred the lentils with a smile as she remembered her mother turning on the radio to have the music keep them company while cooking. Since that modern convenience was nonexistent, she lured the little hedgehog by making her own tunes,

"_Shmoopy, I know what you need  
You need your little hedgehog socks  
For your little hedgehog feet  
Shmoopy, I know what you crave  
You want to kill bugs all day  
But you have to behave_

_Shmoopy, you're lookin so good  
You look like you want,  
Some hedgehog food  
Shmoopy, you're lookin so fine  
You look like you might  
Just start munching  
So I'm gonna let you roam free, boy  
I'm gonna lure in yummy bugs for you, yeah"_

He sighed aloud to her mothering (it was bad enough with Malik's fathering) and returned to camp to exclaim with a little envy, "You're spoiling wildlife!"

"Would you rather I skewered them with a hidden blade?" she replied cheekily as she used a wooden spoon to gently stir the lentils and inhaled the herby aroma. The glow of the fire brightened the hue of her eyes as she grinned impishly and pointed out easily, "You slice and dice them while I coddle with love- it's ingrained in our personalities. Would you have it any other way?"

No, no, he wouldn't.

* * *

Another month later brought them immense relief as they finally entered South Sudan's tropical forests that offered them shade when they made camp. Of course, this brought waves of mosquitoes when they landed in the riverbanks but Vivian had saved her handy mosquito netting for her tent. Altaïr had torn his after punching his belongings into his pack one too many times and she'd sewn it carefully for him to keep him protected. The drastic change of the landscape brought the group joy as it told them they were halfway to South Africa and hadn't gotten completely lost on the way. The harsh humidity with the glaring sun had given way for lukewarm mornings that brought breezy cool winds with rain every few days. The trio had never been happier to have their skin drenched and the assassins had laughed with amusement when Vivian hugged them joyfully during the first downpour. It was a welcome change as the rainy season would last for quite a few months and they hoped it would stay until they reached Lake Victoria.

Vivian currently scribbled into her journal with her little piece of charcoal as she'd made a makeshift 'living fort' out of sturdy sticks for the framework and banana leaves to serve as the roof since the tents were under the safety of the trees. Altaïr had made a roof over their tents, which were huddled together side to side, to protect them from incoming rain in every camp. Since waterproof tarps were centuries away from being made, they had to use the environment to survive. Vivian didn't mind since the incoming water kept them hydrated as she collected it on an open clearing inside a bucket with a cheesecloth on top to prevent contamination.

She sat in her comfortable brown breeches and tunic as she wrote of her current journey, _Today is a good day. Malik found edible fruit in the nearby trees and Altaïr will be hunting something for tonight. The climate has changed as we've reached mid-July and I find myself surprised by how much time has passed and yet, I feel as if I've just left Masyaf with a cranky Altaïr. He's always a little grumpy when he's hungry or when he feels he's failed himself but it's his way to relieve stress so it's all right. He's not the same man I met at the start of our journey and well, let's just say I've grown to admire him as the hero he is. He's not perfect but each little flaw just makes him more balanced in my eye since he is human like anybody else. I'm mending some of his socks since they're the only thing that gets ripped nowadays and I don't mind (screw gender roles, he's Altaïr). During our scuffles with Templars and constant travel, pretty much every article was ripped somewhere. We haven't seen any of them recently since we've been traveling by the Nile rather than the spice route or by sea-_

"Vivian, you're not sewing" Altaïr's voice interrupted from across camp as he'd been mulling over his sketches with Malik regarding upgrading his hidden blade. His art had improved rather well over the months as Malik's artistic mind educated him on fixing everything from his scribbly lines to mediocre shading. His subjects no longer appeared horribly mutated but he'd raise hell if anybody mentioned his previous work.

"Hush, you'll get your cozy socks by tonight" she silenced his complaint with a small smile and watched him frown as he returned to work.

He didn't like it when he was at a loss for ideas and she took the easy road to pacify him. She ignored his comment and continued writing into her journal, _I'm sewing his highness's socks and he's told me to pick up the pace- playfully, of course. He and Malik treat me respectfully, more than anyone I've met in my travels. I sound like a person straight out of the Little House book series but . . . I've grown a little used to this simple way of life. I like exploring and seeing sights I never would've visited in a hundred years and to be beside my new friends, it really is a lifetime opportunity. To see the continent of Africa in its young and untamed glory, I almost wish I could see the west coast of the states during this time._

"Vivian, I want some cucumbers with the skin on" Altaïr interrupted her writing once more as he'd become hungry for a snack and liked the way she showered them with salt (used sparingly due to its high cost). He'd never admit it but the woman knew how he liked his food and favorite snacks as she cooked carefully rather than his way of simply dumping in ingredients to hope for the best. Unlike Malik that told him to do it himself, Vivian didn't mind and he often found himself relying on her for help to prepare food. During his travels with Maria, he'd actually been the better cook since she'd rarely cooked as she masqueraded as a knight so they were both out of luck for decent food. He'd eaten food cooked beyond recognition and charred meat that was still cold on the inside but he'd survived it. Vivian, on the other hand, cooked for a household of four when her father wasn't able to and prepared her sisters lunches. Altaïr had eagerly fit those empty seats and wasn't keen on releasing his hold until she left his realm. He loved a woman that could cook for him, not because she had to, but because she cared for him enough to do so.

She couldn't help but laugh to his child-like requests as he kept tabs on her despite being heavily focused on his work. The man definitely knew how to multitask. She knew why he was poking her towards fury with his irritated tone because he wanted her to admit what weapon to improve and how. Of course, she wouldn't horribly alter the time space continuum and told him to figure it out carefully. She would go explore through the brush to find some of the cucumbers since many wild things that grew were pretty edible. The trio thanked their lucky stars for finally finding food to be self-sufficient and could harvest a few extra things when they did need to find civilization for trade.

"Maybe lengthen the blade? Reinforce it against breaking?" Altaïr mumbled over his thoughts as he'd gazed into apple every once in a while to learn about modifying his weapons. He didn't trust its powers and wouldn't fall prey to depending on it, limiting his exposure to ten minutes. The ankh held a different aura when he wielded it as he witnessed fragments of history more than its true power that eluded him. Without Templars to fight, he couldn't really use them against anyone to reveal their offense mechanisms.

Vivian had paused her scribbling to hear his mumbles to make sure he was headed in the right direction and resumed writing once more. Her brief pause told Altaïr that she'd been hearing him all along and perceived that she was probably writing about him. What else could she be writing in that thing? The endless shrubbery? The rainy gray clouds in the distance? The water bucket? Of course not! She was more than likely writing a lustful tale between her and Ezio to escape reality- why else would she be smiling? They were probably trampling all over him in their lusty adventure since he was being cranky and laughing all the way, leaving him alone to wallow in loneliness. How dare they just cast him aside like a dirty washrag? He was ten times better- wait, why did he even care about her and his annoyingly handsome descendant?

He didn't like being ignored or left in the dark, especially if he was being mocked in writing and demanded hastily, "Are my socks done?"

"Altaïr, pressing me about your little socks won't make me tell you what you need to do" she stated calmly with a motherly tone that caused him to frown because he wanted to have the upper hand. Must he dance like a little monkey to pry answers from her? Malik jabbed him in the side with his elbow to do away with his cranky tone since a smile went a long way rather than a scowl. Vivian compared Altaïr to a rooster with its feathers in a bunch as she eyed him with amusement and smiled gently to disarm his mood, "Do you still want that snack to fuel your brain's little cells to work harder?"

He grumbled under his breath since her nice demeanor usually caused his good conscience to scold him for being rude and muttered, "Yes, please."

His hunting for the night didn't fare well either after taking too long with figuring out his improvements. With the tropical climate bringing rain randomly, the clouds blotted out the sun faster than he could take cover and it caused the days to shorten as sunset arrived rather fast. Vivian enjoyed watching the sun set in the low cloud cover as the golden orb tinged with red faded into the green land and bid farewell to the silver sky as it turned reddish pink to bring dusk. She didn't wander far from camp since predators lurked deeper where the forest became so dense that she needed to cut into it so she stuck close to their temporary home.

That night, Vivian's life took a downturn when Altaïr dropped a familiar brown ground squirrel she'd seen wandering within the tropical forest. The familiar backyard creature had easily found a spot in her heart as she'd given it a name and enjoyed watching it when she wandered around camp. Tonight, however, she'd stared in horror as he'd sat down to skin it after bringing in his bleak catches. Her fingers clamped over the log she'd been sitting on as she reeled in shock and declared frantically, "Rigby!"

Altaïr's head shot up to her grief stricken expression, stunned when she reached down to grab the dead squirrel from his hands to scold, "Squirrel killer! You killed my Rigby!"

Had she gone mental?

Malik had heard about the little squirrel she'd seen while foraging for food and asked carefully, "Are you sure it's him? Maybe it's one that looks similar?"

"Yes, he's just missing blood, bones, and his internal organs . . . but it's him!" Vivian lamented woefully as she held the dead animal in her arms, careless about it having fleas. Altaïr winced visibly because it was food rather than a pet since they moved constantly. Goodness, she'd named just about every animal in the past week alone! She held the small dead animal in her hands with disbelief since the poor squirrel had been flattened to the point that he resembled paper. What in the world had he done to it? She waved her dead Rigby in emphasis and demanded the truth about his death from Altaïr, "Why does he resemble a crepe?!"

Malik had to admit he'd never seen a catch so bizarre and Altaïr sighed exasperatedly to admit listlessly, "Well . . . I was hunting for a monkey-"

"We _don't_ eat monkeys!" Malik yelled swiftly with disgust to that horrible idea since there was plenty of normal wildlife like poultry, hares, and fish around them. Why in the world would he decide to hunt for a _monkey_ of all things? How was that logical in anyone's mind? He really longed for his arm at this moment because he wouldn't have hunted game like a maniac.

"It threw fruit at me!" Altaïr justified his actions with a sharp snap since nobody made a fool of him and it would take a few washes to be rid of the pink color splotched over his back. Vivian felt faint at hearing this since not only was Rigby a victim but a poor monkey had almost been killed? He frowned as he noticed their disapproving expressions and continued to explain himself, "I slipped in my footing on a tree branch due to the rain from earlier and fell down . . . on an innocent squirrel that was eating its fruit. I'm pretty sure its death was instantaneous because, well, I'm not exactly light or small. Frankly, I'm surprised its eyes didn't pop out-"

"Poor little guy . . . get him, Rigby!" Vivian sniffled upsettingly before using the flattened squirrel to hit him over the head for his insane hunting tactics. If he'd left the monkey alone, Rigby wouldn't resemble a legal envelope right now! This time, Malik let her have at it since the man shouldn't have been climbing trees in the first place.

Altaïr batted her pesky strikes away since he didn't want fur on his robes and snapped tightly, "If you don't stop, I'll give it a good burial by kicking it across this forest."

She ceased her hitting because in the end, it wouldn't bring back the poor squirrel. It was gone and with it, the familiar feeling of home as its foraging reminded her of watching other squirrels in the yard with Penelope in her lap. She handed him the dead animal as rigor mortis had set in to make it completely stiff and sniffled, "Fine, you can cook it . . . he would've wanted it that way. Since we're surviving on a day to day basis, I'll use his pretty fur for something. His death will not be in vain, he will be remembered valiantly as both a friend and neighbor-"

"Are we having a _eulogy_ for an unknown squirrel?" Altaïr asked with incredulous disbelief to what he was witnessing as it ranked high on his abnormal moments list. The squirrel wasn't even human! Vivian did indeed bring the strangest mysteries and moments into his life but this was a bit too absurd. Malik decided to shush him in the easiest way by smacking the back of his head and Altaïr yelped painfully, "Ow!"

Vivian restrained herself from striking him with the squirrel again (could he be anymore callous?) and Altaïr stated sharply, "With the way they reproduce, I'm pretty sure his siblings are in this other group over here. Maybe even its kids- they probably inbreed."

The assassin motioned to the small pile of three squirrels, apart from Rigby, that he'd caught since his hunting had been incredibly lousy. He blamed Vivian's late snack, his long studying, Malik's nagging, and the rainy weather- all of it- on his bad luck. Malik buried his head in his hand since his friend wasn't seeing Vivian's viewpoint to show her empathy and sighed with irritation, "Oh my- do you have _no_ sense of mourning or compassion? I thought you learned that back in Masyaf!"

There were times Malik wondered if Altaïr's redemption quest went in one ear and out the other. This was one of those times as Vivian stared at the little mound of dead squirrels with a face laced with sadness and disgust.

"I never included animals in it, except horses and birds" he answered offhandedly without pausing to think before he talked and Malik sighed to his lack of discretion. Altaïr had never been the type of man to brush bad things under the rug or beat around the bush with the truth and it tended to backfire in specific instances. Malik was pretty sure this was one of the reasons why Maria refused to tread on a romantic road and sighed aloud. Altaïr's opinions would never match Vivian's as only those two animals were exempt from his self-imposed rule and he pointed out the harshness of reality, "I had to put my first horse down at age ten-"

"Stop, please . . . just stop" Vivian pleaded quietly since she didn't want to hear about death anymore and headed for her tent to lie down to forget everything. She'd never really expected Altaïr to kill off one of the animals she'd attached a name to but he survived off the land and didn't have similar cares to worry about. Was she too soft for his world? The quiet solitude of night drained her energy and she decided to fall asleep tonight without dinner because eating her animal friend would've made things worse to bear.

Malik appeared absolutely disappointed in him since he'd expected him to respect Vivian's distress over her little forest friend. Since the two were often left in camp while Altaïr headed off on his own in the morning, she'd disclosed her attachment to the animal as it reminded her of home. Now, the remnants of a lost home literally lay flattened at his friend's feet in the form of a shabby rug. Altaïr returned Malik's stern expression but the assassin conceded a minute later when the dai failed to move or say anything. Why did it unnerve him completely when he did that? He hated feeling like a child caught on the wrong side of an argument because Malik held an aura fit for a father and he muttered listlessly, "Let me guess, I'm to offer an apology."

"I'm glad you understand that, at least" Malik stated grimly since he wouldn't have to nag him to see Vivian's side of the story and pointed to his squirrel catches. He'd never eaten squirrel in his life but when they needed to survive, he'd swallow whatever was edible. He decided to leave the man be since he'd decided to take his advice and added in a quick reminder, "Finish skinning your game quickly and remember that Vivian carries respect for animals, no matter how small."

"She didn't show care when she hit me with her dead friend!" Altaïr shot back grumpily as he grabbed his one of his catches, not Rigby since it was flattened to a pulp and would better serve as leather. Vivian might be small but her strikes had certainly become stronger under Malik's training- ugh, she'd better not have left clumps of fur on his clothes. He shut up when Malik's frown turned into a glare because he'd been ready to mouth off about the dead squirrel and groaned miserably, "All right, you won't hear anything more from me."

* * *

Altaïr had never been one apologize easily but he found himself doing so with Vivian for the second time in their friendship. It was absolutely ridiculous as to what he had to ask forgiveness for but this was for Vivian's sake, not his. As much as he hated to admit to himself, he didn't want her angry at him nor would he want to intentionally hurt her. She helped him maintain his sanity as well as question it with her quirky antics and the intentional cold shoulder left him feeling melancholy. He was _never_ melancholy before that crazy little badger entered his life and it took all of his strong will not to prod her to talk. There was nothing he could do but wait and bide his time. . .until tomorrow because they had to travel all day.

So, like an impatient man that needed to fix this new bump on the road without having to walk hundreds of miles for a new wagon wheel- he decided to use the wilderness. The woman enjoyed watching wildlife from a safe distance and the open landscapes so he'd seize the opportunity to right his wrong. Malik allowed Altaïr to forage with Vivian (after a few, ahem, begs) to determine whether she was mad at him because he never knew with that woman. After airing out his blankets and finding a new hedgehog inside, he'd tugged along a reluctant Vivian that had barely gotten dressed. Aghast to her horrible morning breath, he allowed her to freshen up like she'd originally requested and the two headed out afterwards with him in the lead.

He'd caught sight of the herd earlier in the morning as he searched the perimeter for any intruders and knew she'd enjoy the sight. Vivian was completely at a loss to where he was leading them since he barely foraged for anything as she scrambled after him. Every inquiry or exclamation was silenced with a 'hush', 'come along', 'no questions', and 'stop kicking the back of my kneecap'. They reached an open clearing that was reminiscent of any African landscape on the National Geographic or Animal Planet channel. The sweet smelling grass shined under the sun as constant ingestion by herbivores kept it trimmed throughout most of the area and trees could be seen in the horizon as not a single cloud lay in the sky. The blue sky seemed so large that Vivian almost believed it could swallow them! In the distance, Altaïr caught sight of the large animal he'd only heard of through tales from travelers that were written in library archives and Vivian's mouth.

He held Vivian back as she'd been pulling wild weeds that could serve as salad later and picking berries from nearby bushes. Unlike him, she'd actually followed him under the pretense that he sought food and she was going to find some after the long walk. She didn't get to ask about his abrupt stop when he grabbed her by the elbow to lead her to the border of the forest, hiding behind the concealing bushes to point into the horizon. They would remain in the safety of the dense forest to protect themselves since they steered clear of grasslands and he ordered hastily, "There. Look at them."

Her face broke into an awed smile and lit up in amazement to the animals she was seeing before her eyes. Elephants. Free and wild African _elephants_- a herd of females! She loved elephants; their family bond and herd dynamics matched the care of humankind to their children. Unfortunately, her species had shamelessly hunted them for profit until they'd become endangered. Was there anything they wouldn't do for money and power? Ever since she'd seen and read about Echo the elephant alongside her father, they had been her number one animal. There were no words she could say as the sight left her speechless and her hands shook to the beautiful landscape before her. Is this how the first explorers had felt?

"I'm sorry about the squirrel" he spoke softly to smooth over his mistake since his reaction to her distress hadn't been kind. He had a long road ahead as he learned about humor of all types but he never meant to hurt Vivian. She was certainly kooky but she was _his_ kooky friend. He took the open wicker basket from her trembling hands before it fell and murmured sympathetically, "I didn't mean to sound callous, especially if the animal meant much to you. All I can offer is this in return."

"It's not your fault- you fell" she forgave easily since she'd been surprised to find that he'd fallen on that specific squirrel of all things. Maybe it was fate deciding it was time to pull Rigby from the living world and into the next. She'd probably blown the whole thing out of proportion since he'd no idea she'd watched the animal during their stay. If he went about hunting down her nicknamed wildlife friends, she'd be worse than she was during PMS.

She sighed softly as the wild elephants flooded her heart with warmth and admitted quietly, "It reminded me of the ones around my home, they're brown and Penelope liked to see them skitter across our backyard. She tried to leave bits of bread for them once and a water dish . . . it just reminded me of home. I haven't thought about it in a while and when I do, it stirs a lot of locked emotions. I miss my home terribly, Altaïr, but my mother said to always make the best with what you're given."

He admired that quote of her mother's since Vivian never uttered a peep about missing home and didn't often consider her viewpoint of everything around them. To him, this was untamed land that needed careful trekking but to her, it was another world altogether. She handled her situation with a stiff upper lip to avoid being a burden, helping him with whatever he needed, and took each day at a time with humorous optimism. He said nothing but their gazes met in understanding as they stood together as a team to tackle on the world together.

Motioning with her hand to the elephants in the distance, she smiled broadly to state breathlessly, "But this . . . this is beyond anything I could imagine in my wildest dreams. They are beautiful majestic beings- just look at them!"

The group of five elephants with their two calves pulled grass with their trunks as they ate away without a care. Humans would not bother them for a few centuries yet and Vivian latched onto his arm with extreme joy to gush genuinely, "Oh, thank you. A million times thank you."

"It was no problem" Altaïr replied quietly and kept an eye out for wandering animals that could take them by surprise if they dawdled. He allowed her to watch the elephants to her heart's content but said nothing about her hold on his arm. She really held no strength to complain about and he brought her to brighten her spirit, especially after hearing the truth behind Rigby. After all, she didn't hesitate to help him and it was time he returned the favor.

There was a little elephant beneath its mother as it found shade from the glaring sun for the moment while they grazed peacefully. It was rather cute in its own way as its large ears fluttered against its face and he suggested amicably, "We could call that little one there Rigby II or something similar. I've never been very good with names and was lucky to find a decent name for Rafiki."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Altaïr the Mighty since it's a growing elephant" she said playfully with a twinkle in her eye as her gaze briefly met his before returning to the young elephant. He'd gone above and beyond what she'd expected today after their previous quarrel and treasured his apology gift. At the most, she'd expected him to carry in a living angry bird to give as a consolation gift or money for candy. In his own way, Altaïr was growing into a compassionate man that could socialize without scurrying off to daydream about assassinating or the creed. He'd definitely beat his old five minute marker at Masyaf when he'd chucked potted plants to get her to leave as they stood together now in amicable terms.

"I see no problem with that" he agreed with a reserved smile when her head rested against his bicep (goodness, she was short), her hand eagerly pointing to each movement the little animal made. It was a small token for his memories since he'd never see these lands again but Vivian had managed to pry him away to bask in the natural beauty of the world. He made no move to protect his personal space as she leaned against him and allowed her to do so with a small smile.

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**A/N**: Yowza, this is probably the longest chapter I've written for this story but baby Darim needed to be popped out into the world without anything too graphic to shock the viewers. Maria is now a proud mother of a baby boy but I pretty much expected her to deliver her child with suspicion since she has been a woman on the run (hopefully, I did her justice). As for Vivian and Altaïr, animals can both bring them together or destroy the peace. Alas, poor Rigby stood no chance against a six foot tall man falling from a medium sized tree (I can't let Connor have all the tree climbing skills). In the next chapter, we'll have more of their crazy adventures as Altaïr finishes his swimming lessons.

Thank you so much for the many reviews, I loved them all!

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: When I fly, I pack everything so meticulously tiny to stay organized that when I remove my clothes out of luggage, they're so horribly wrinkled. By the end of a trip, I just chuck everything inside without a care. Vivian's such a humorous gal but she definitely gives it her all for Altaïr, which he appreciates. You're correct on that subconscious thing since he'd never let anything happen to her and may have overreacted to protect his quirky little friend. He's not comfortable with a seductive Vivian since it brings the realization that- tada! - she's a woman.

_SnowingLeaves_: lol, I'm sure Vivian will have a book ready about taming the man by the end of her tale.

_Noveltycourage_: Yes, there will be a romance blossoming between our feuding duo that will leave Malik exhausted to their craziness. We'll see in later chapters what Maria thinks when she meets Altaïr in Masyaf.

_ihas no clue_: Altaïr has never been a man to shy away from all kinds of questions while Malik maintains his gentlemanly behavior. I think Vivian's rubbing off on him more than he is on her. Lol

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: That chapter was definitely one of my favorites to write since Altaïr was so uncomfortable in that scenario to the point he sought reassurance from Vivian. And yes, Vivian will meet our strong Maria much later on in the story and more than likely develop a girl crush from her gender defying awesomeness.

_xVentressx_: I have the ending outlined but not exactly how far Altaïr and Vivian will be in their relationship but it's still a long time till that. We'll definitely be enjoying many more of their crazy antics.

_Sleepingsnowwhite_: Thanks so much for loving it and I love your avatar pic, it's so pretty.

_KrnYong_: Vivian is definitely a worrier when it comes to Altaïr and although he fusses like a madman, he loves the coddling deep inside his fortress of a heart. As they spend more time together, he'll allow her to slip with her bold talk since he's a pretty straightforward guy himself but he stammers in romance. Her first seducing tactic did go horribly awry when the first guy ran off but the next guy did bite the bait and I'd imagine the days at camp helped to mold her new persona, especially if she coached Altaïr on how to behave. The poor guy was a nervous wreck, lol. With the romance, he'll be humorously awkward at acknowledging the emotions since Vivian won't be eager to roll around in the hay like Maria and will keep trying to knock sense into him. At the same time, he'll be damn cute luring the stubborn badger with his romantic tactics.

_Hanane EL Mokkadem_: Thanks, I'm glad to make my readers cackle like mad and leave their sides in stitches!

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: You're right about Malik holding the awesomeness medal of 'determination and best sidekick'. The man has a strong will to bear Altaïr's nagging and Vivian's witty jokes that usually lead the two into a humorous playful quarrel that drive poor Malik insane. I'm pretty sure that without him to be the glue to their group, the two would've destroyed each other within a week of leaving Masyaf. Somewhere, Vivian would be dancing jigs for money and he'd be sporting a black eye elsewhere- they were just so antagonistic at the start. Vivian won't be returning to Masyaf but she will be meeting Maria outside of it since she'll be working for their side while Darim is safe in the fortress (can't keep a strong willed woman like her locked up). And alas, there is no Malik without Altaïr but the former man definitely puts him in his place with a simple stern glare since he's the most levelheaded and Altaïr knows that. There's no way I could've had this story without Malik since he keeps them all together as the father bear of the group.

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**Next Time**: _Two Peas In A Pod_

She pressed her palm lightly against his left shoulder blade and suggested helpfully, "I also give friendly massages to ward away muscle pain."

Altaïr was dubious of her therapeutic claims since she crafted good lies out of thin air and he was left either flustered or furious. After what happened in that brothel many months ago, the little historian was capable of anything. Vivian pressed her palm where the nape met the shoulder, leading him to lie down immediately to the tension released in that move. All right, maybe she wasn't the quack he originally believed her to be. She kneaded the tightness bundled there since the man was always stiff in posture and explained, "I've been reading all about it. Malik and I have been practicing, not on each other since he's pretty gentlemanly about keeping me proper. He likes to use it on the nerves while I go for the muscle since. . .well, it's not exactly new that each training session leaves me in a puddle of my own goo of crying flesh."

"It's not approved for a half-naked man to be in the company of a woman-" he began to decline since Malik would lecture him about maintaining Vivian's virtue. Frankly, that crafty badger was anything but innocent and wouldn't be surprised if he saw her running naked for fun in a creek.

"Altaïr, any thought of ever marrying you went out the window when you snored on the first day" she shot back sarcastically because she wasn't itching to do the horizontal tango and hopped off his back to pop hers. The resounding pops caused his eyes to widen as she stretched with an arched back but Altaïr told himself he'd nag her if she whimpered in pain. She rolled her shoulders as she felt the muscles of his upper arms ache and pointed out matter-of-factly, "We're not anywhere near civilization so I can claim this piece of land in the name of Sub-Zero and call it Lego Land with the imperial rule that anybody named Altaïr will be a manservant for life to anyone named Vivian."

"You love making a mockery of my time" he muttered flatly as he stood up to wipe the dirt off his knees and palms to end his workout. Vivian hadn't provided much resistance to his pushups and would have to find heavier weight next time.

"Goodness no, that would be hypocrisy on my studies" she chuckled softly since Altaïr was a serious persona with humor but there was no question as to whether she respected him. How could she not when he saved her life more than once? Not to mention, he was her knight in shining armor when he squashed bugs that were too fat for her feet to squish. Who wouldn't love their own personal bug killer? She smiled earnestly to her grumpy companion and stated, "It might not be the safest or civil of times but it has you and Malik. . .that makes it worth my wile."

Well, maybe he could try it this once.

Five minutes later, Altaïr lay on a linen blanket over the dirt in his tent with Vivian standing on the center of his back. Whatever he'd originally believed had been _completely_ correct after all. His right cheek pressed into the cloth as her small feet left red indentations on his shoulders and he growled heatedly, "I'm beginning to believe you lied to me, treacherous badger."

"No. . .just highly exaggerated my qualities" she restated with her crafty wordplay but sat down to straddle his back, facing forward towards his head. She'd been head over heels in joy that he'd actually let her touch him (in a platonic way) without fearing for her life. What fan wouldn't enjoy giving him a back rub as they molded his skin like putty? It was absolutely fantastic! His frequent growling, however, reminded her that he wasn't feeling 'fabulous' and she spoke slowly, "Before you hurl me across the field, tell me where the knots are and I'll do my best to knead them away."

"That's better" he agreed with thinned lips since she'd literally been trampling him under her feet and was thankful she didn't have a heavy weight. Still, he wasn't keen on having her on his back as he played a horse so she'd better try her best or he would hurl her across the field.

Ten minutes later, Malik walked by the assassin's tent and paused immediately when he heard sharp grunting from inside. Well, if the man wanted to exercise or take care of a few urges- gah! He didn't want to blind his mind with that ghastly thought. When Vivian's voice mixed in with the grunting, Malik's brotherly protectiveness arose because nobody would harm the historian or sully her honor. How dare Altaïr decide to turn a charmed eye towards her? Had he no shame with a child back in Masyaf? With that in mind, the honorable dai stormed into the tent with valiant courage to face whatever carnal act was-

He found Vivian digging her left elbow into the lowest part of Altaïr's left shoulder blade to deliver some tough love on a stubborn knot that failed to budge. It needed a lot of elbow grease to do away with it as she gave it her best shot. Altaïr, on the other hand, had painful red welts from the other previous massage areas over his back and was holding onto a blanket for support. Malik could clearly see there was no pleasure at all in that face as it resembled torture while Vivian balanced herself on his back. She hung on like a stubborn barnacle as her pink tongue stuck out from between closed teeth and mumbled firmly, "C'mon, you. Turn into mush!"

"Go back to the previous move, you're killing my muscle!" Altaïr demanded swiftly with a painful yell since her strongest touch turned out to be too much. He'd never have believed her arms could carry any serious strength and wanted her off immediately. His white knuckles thrashed against the blanket as she brought the mighty assassin down with her horrible massage skills and grunted painfully, "I didn't think you could be strong in any way. Get off, you little imp!"

For that, Vivian used her right finger to deliver a wet willie to his right ear and laughed to the disgusted exclamation about being sullied. How dare she put that dirty finger in his ear canal without permission? Had she no shame?! Malik decided to exit before they realized he'd walked into that bizarre scene and decided it was better left alone. As long as the two weren't locked in an amorous embrace, he was fine. He liked being sane and would not join their eccentric behavior because the two were definitely reflecting each other's personalities.

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_Thank you so much for reading and I hope to see you all next time!_


	31. Two Peas In a Pod

**Music Inspiration: **Two Steps From Hell- _"Magic of Love"_**  
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**Two Peas In a Pod**

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"Block! Kick!"

Vivian obeyed instinctively as she practiced her hand-to-hand fighting skills with Malik as the dai blocked each of her moves easily after years of constant training. Her defense and offense skills had been improving steadily since their travels in Sudan and although she would never want to be any kind of an assassin or climb buildings with superhuman speed, she was proud. There was no way she'd ever attempt parkour without fearing for her life or wield any kind of projectiles to hurl at anyone but her training sufficed. She was keeping her mind focused on realistic goals that would prolong her life expectancy, not her coolness factor, and the assassins helped. She couldn't always depend on them if she ever hoped to do a little recon for them when investigating villages and needed to watch out for herself.

Malik went on the offense and pounced to strike her stomach, leading her to grab his arm and Vivian used her strength (rowing really helped) to pull it behind his back. Her friend was quite strong despite his humble appearance, inspiring jokes that he hid an arsenal of muscles and weapons under the robes, but she managed to press his arm against his back. Boy, the man definitely packed muscles underneath his robes so the Malik fans could swoon in appreciation. Implementing his teachings, she struck the back of his knee with hers to trigger the reflex in his joint to bring him to knees. Malik fell down as she had predicted and he smiled to her success since she'd been having issues finding the right angle to strike from. Releasing him afterwards, she helped him stand up with eager hands and asked with hopeful optimism about her improvement, "How was that?"

She was so giddy on the tips of her toes, she could explode! . . . Figuratively, of course.

"Better, but I will recommend you do a few upper body exercises like Altaïr" Malik suggested and pointed to their friend, who was performing push-ups a few feet away from them.

When it came to intense exercise routines, Altaïr was the best at creating them for his assassins and Vivian definitely needed to gain strength. For once, he wasn't clad in armor or robes but simple brown breeches with his boots and nothing else to keep the heat from suffocating him through his exercise routine. His shirtless appearance floored Vivian's hormones since she'd only caught brief glances of him when he left the river creeks after bathing. Since he'd apparently caught her covert glances when he admitted it at the brothel, she avoided doing so to avert further embarrassment. Why was she teased so horribly again? That and his unbelievable strength as he performed push-ups like no tomorrow put her little muscles to shame. Nothing skyrocketed her estrogen and killed her testosterone in one second like Altaïr could.

"Can't I watch you beat him in one armed pushups instead? It won't make me feel so tiny" she praised in order to slide her way out of doing the same exercises that gave the two the astonishing bodies of Greek gods while she had a tummy matching the consistency of the Pillsbury mascot. Her cheeks darkened to seeing his muscles flex against the resistance of his own weight and the sun wasn't her friend as it illuminated his glistening skin. The man was a gorgeous bronze hue while her own paler beige arms didn't make her feel stronger or attractive since the archaic climate decimated any possibility.

"Vivian" he used the fatherly tone that told her she was in the wrong and that it was all for her benefit. Her shoulders sagged as she failed to wiggle out of dealing with Altaïr's swimsuit calendar worthy physique and sighed under her breath. She'd easily hand over her position to any athletic AC fans that held no attraction towards the man because he was making her ovaries implode.

Malik's voice was nonnegotiable but he didn't understand what his colleague's appearance did to her. Altaïr was a walking aphrodisiac that strutted with the confidence of a male peacock but she'd have to put on her big girl pants to bear it. She wasn't looking forward to this and sighed morosely to obey her teacher, "All right. You know, you're going to make an awesome father one day. I hope Altaïr won't let his kid eat glue paste while he's off training recruits or making his blades shinier."

"They will have Maria" Malik reasoned since women primarily cared for the children and since the child was at Masyaf, they would be under Maria's guidance. The dai really hoped the child would take to being more sociable because Altaïr was the worst when it came to social interaction. You had to literally poke the man so he could utter a single word and most of the time, it was a disgruntled sound. He could only hope that time would mellow him slowly like an old lion past its prime that could only swat at bothersome flies and nothing else.

"Yes, but she's an awesome ass kicker too- where is she going to carry little Altaïr if she's kicking butt?" she pointed out to Maria's unwavering strong will and gasped at imagining her knitting baby socks instead of beating Templars with their helmets. What if she decided to settle down and be a homely cook with five kids clinging to her skirt? Her eyes widened to the horrible thought of her abandoning a life of adventure and exclaimed woefully, "Oh no! She became Mama Maria-"

"Vivian, worry over your own training" Malik advised with an amused smile to her outrageous imagination and headed off to focus on his own training. She didn't have any issue learning alongside him but once he involved Altaïr, she fell into nervous rambles. All he could do was reassure her that the man was harmless nowadays and wouldn't be chasing her with an unsheathed blade like he used to.

She listened to Malik as the dai decided to practice throwing knives into the trees for accuracy. D'oh, why couldn't she need help in that rather than building strength? Well, she could either wallow in her misery or march right next to the man as he kept his concentration solely on the floor. She could only blink for a few seconds and wonder if he was part Terminator as he continued exercising without faltering. Performing a few pushups to increase her muscle mass, she grew tired after reaching twenty since her body wasn't familiar with strength training after years of reading in libraries. True, she ran her laps around the neighborhood while hearing lectures about history to increase her brain power but didn't venture past that. This new life pushed aside her old lifestyle to mold a different Vivian that slowly kept changing but she wasn't sure whether she liked it. She couldn't compare to either assassin as she felt as tiny as a bug and collapsed onto the floor to rest after her meager set. Her assassin friend, however, merely kept going with unbelievable stamina that had her gasping in disbelief, "How are you not tired? This . . . you're inhuman!"

"I've trained all of my life . . . so this . . . is nothing" he snorted dismissively and her tiny triumph at succeeding in her lessons felt like specks compared to him. There was absolutely no way she'd ever match him but truly, he was to be admired at this rate. Unfortunately, she couldn't just lie on the grass and make googly eyes at him all day or risk being caught by either him or Malik for doing so. Altaïr rested for a minute by kneeling on the grass, wiping his brow free of accumulated sweat as he caught his breath, and Vivian resisted from gouging her eyes out to spare herself the tantalizing view.

This was the stuff memes were made for! Why was the universe taunting her with a tautly muscled upper body like his? Even as a woman, he put hers to shame as even the scars decorating his body like artwork made her skin look worse. She hated admitting to herself that he was handsomer than she originally believed and felt the inkling to make paint to fake her own little scars to imitate him. Seeing the old scars decorating his body, she tried to make a count of them but he finally took notice of her sitting there beside him. She tried to appear nonchalant as she waved at him with an innocent smile but he said nothing about it. Altaïr returned to his push-up position after catching his breath to make sure his heart rate didn't lower too much and requested, "Sit on my back, will you? The extra weight resistance will help me strengthen my muscles."

"If you tell me you can lift a horse, I might as well throw in the towel in my defense training" she sighed miserably to her puny strength but sat on the middle of his back to offer a helping hand. She felt like she was sitting on a warm but sturdy coffee table and placed her hands on his bare back for extra security. Her cheeks reddened slightly since she never expected to actually touch the man and hoped her fingers didn't decide to become sweaty from her nervousness. He was _the_ assassin of assassins and here she was with her palms touching his bare supple skin and could feel his shoulder blades move under her right hand. Where was a modern air fan when she needed it? She managed to find her voice as she looked straight ahead to avoid any lewd comments from her inner fangirl and asked, "Are you sure you won't hurt your back like this?"

"No, I used to have Malik or the others places crate or sacks of items to help me back at Masyaf" he assured easily since he'd had worse training exercises during his youth and began a new set with the woman on his back. Her weight was easily manageable since he'd had heavier items to lift and she wasn't anywhere near an armored Templar. Vivian could only stare at the forest around them with wide owl eyes since her weight didn't do much to deter his pace. Was he truly human? Altaïr found her extra weight easy to overcome as he kept the same speed without stopping and joked lightly, "With the lack of hiking and trekking, I expected you to gain a little weight."

"Sorry to disappoint you but this is all maintenance" she laughed softly since her adventuring days had caused her to lose weight rather than gain and flicked the back of his left ear. He uttered a protesting grunt since smacking her wandering hands was out of the question but that didn't deter her. Her fingers ran through the short locks of his brown hair as perspiration coated the roots and she teased with a small smirk, "I think it's time for another of Vivian's famous cuts."

He abhorred her haircutting skills after a certain style she'd given him and snapped tightly, "If you give me that atrocious bowl cut again-"

She laughed aloud to that memory since he'd resembled one of the three stooges for half an hour and justified, "Only because you let your hair grow long enough for me to do one since you were so fussy about doing a better job. Maybe you'd like to grow your hair out and imitate your descendant's beautifully luscious chocolate locks-"

"What?! What efficient and smart assassin would grow their hair long?" he began to rant angrily about having long hair as an assassin because it would be a severe hindrance. Nobody had their hair long unless they tied or braided it back behind their head because having it loose was irresponsible and pretty much a death sentence. If it was loose, it was cut short in fashion to Vivian's and even she knew what he did: it obstructed your sight. Altaïr stared at the green grass with a heated scowl to the ridiculous notion of future assassins casting aside their core traits and spat, "Unless it was tied, it baffles me as to how he succeeded in assassinating a target."

"Yes, he had it tied back in a nice assassin approved little ponytail" she assured sarcastically since Ezio did have a gorgeous mane of hair that could awe the masses. He probably made women themselves swoon in jealousy during his time. Mmm, the man would've been a gorgeous hair product model and probably would've owned his own cologne line 'Essence of Ezio'- or something deliciously fancy. Vivian chuckled softly as she felt the tension that rolled through his body as he performed his pushups and spoke gently, "Goodness, I'm almost inclined to believe you're a little jealous of your dear descendant. He respects you highly so I'd think you'd be happy to know that he's been able to continue your work."

"Bedding women, parading in luxurious fabrics, and using harlots as cover does _not_ please this old fashioned assassin" he stated gruffly from his end since he had absolutely no luxuries in his current life but it was a small comfort to know his descendants weren't starving and ill. Otherwise, he'd really be ashamed of how far his name fell. He'd never have thought to be a father but since he was, Altaïr wanted all of his future descendants to live a life different from his own. They deserved to be free of looking over their shoulders, poverty, oppression, and most importantly, have a safe home to call their own. Of course, that didn't mean flaunting or parading oneself cockily down the street and charming the skirts off women. He lived a hard life and although there were times he wanted to let another man walk in his shoes, he couldn't do it. This was his job to do alone but he hated to feel that he was crawling through the streets like a homeless man while later assassins would be well-dressed eye candy for others.

He didn't own any clothing fit for a civilian or money to call his own- not even property! It didn't take much for Altaïr to feel inferior when it came to placing himself in society and he muttered bitterly, "Half the time, I'm mending my robes to patch them up and keeping the color fresh however I can. I'm living day-to-day like a poor wanderer by counting my coins and I find the stars mocking me because they hold an infinite number than I could ever achieve. My search for answers will not bring me any closer to the truth and you already stated my descendants are still piecing everything together-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay" she interjected soothingly as she found the root of the problem and tried calming him from his rant. It was an incredible rarity that he opened himself to his inner turmoil but she would smooth that rocky road for him. He increased the output of his pushups to lock away those grim thoughts because they would only hinder him as he felt a cold pit settle in his stomach. Vivian's hands rubbed circles over his back to focus his attention away from it all and despite he'd kick off a person that touched him, he let her be. She wasn't going to let him wallow in misery because he was the most determined in her book and encouraged him kindly, "They wouldn't know what to do if it weren't for you, they'd be lost like chickens with their heads cut off. None of them are better nor less than you, everyone fights for the same cause. You, however, unraveled it all and began finding the pieces to bring all those revelations to the rest. Everything started with you as you shed light on the truth and it will stand through the echoes of time."

Patting the top of his warm head, she added in with an amused tone, "Besides, I don't mind singing and dancing for money like a little monkey. You're doing exceptionally well with what you've been given, Altaïr, and we're proud of you. Don't worry about competing with ghosts that don't even exist and those that do, remember that you're fighting for the living. They're the ones we need to protect and you're the only Batman around for miles."

"I wish I could think like you with that optimistic view of everything life throws at us" he mused quietly about his companion's cheerful outlook and said nothing about her dog-like pats to his head. If she was happy, he would grant her that because it took a lot of patience to handle him. He stopped his routine as his muscles began to ache, along with his joints, and Vivian hopped off his back to prevent causing the man a back injury. Awesome assassin or not, he had to take care of himself to prevent bone injuries in later life and she stood on her tiptoes to pop her spine. The resounding pops caused his eyes to widen as she stretched with an arched back but Altaïr told himself he'd nag her if she whimpered in pain. She plopped down onto the grass as he kneeled and steadied his breath but she groaned in her mind when he wiped sweat from his brow. He looked like he'd just walked out of a sunblock commercial!

She bit her bottom lip when she saw his chest heaving and smacked away her inner fangirl as it wanted to trail a particular bead of sweat that rolled down his pectoral to, well, baby making land. Life was giving her a bunch of lemons today and she had half a mind to sprint for a tunic in camp to chuck it at him before she turned into a puddle. Her attention snapped away from his upper body (she felt so ashamed for objectifying him as a gorgeous baby making machine) when he stated aloud with reflection, "Or maybe, I have grown too old from the world around me. I've never had the time to enjoy the little simple things of life."

"It's not your fault, you were born in a situation you couldn't really help and your mentor wasn't the honorable man you thought he was" she murmured softly since he'd been dealt a bad hand in life every once in a while but hoped the future held a brighter tomorrow. His insightful words were enough to pry away her hidden gazes as her heartstrings were pulled rather than hormones. He needed a helping hand to strengthen the flickering flame of courage in his heart and she assured warmly, "You are optimistic in your own way by never quitting until a job is done. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here in the middle of Africa trying to stop maniacal Templars from total world domination. I may wield optimism but you use hope."

She pressed her right palm lightly against his left shoulder blade and suggested helpfully, "I also give friendly massages to ward away muscle pain. It's my extra super awesome perk as your faithful companion."

He directed a deadpan stare for her usage of game jargon since they weren't in an RPG game and she mumbled as she hung her head, "Sorry, I was caught in the zone again."

Altaïr was dubious of her therapeutic claims since she crafted good lies out of thin air and he was left either flustered or furious- usually the latter. After what happened in that brothel many months ago, the little historian was capable of anything and he wasn't turning a blind eye towards her tricks. This was mostly because they involved him or otherwise, he'd unleash her to the world without a care. Vivian pressed her palm firmly where the nape of his neck met the left shoulder and he felt the tension released immediately in that move. All right, maybe she wasn't the quack he originally believed her to be. She kneaded the tightness bundled there since the man was always stiff in posture and swore his skin resembled stone.

For once, she managed to hold her raging fangirl in check as she massaged the muscles nestled in that spot and explained, "I've been reading all about it. Malik and I have been practicing, not on each other since he's pretty gentlemanly about keeping me proper. He's a father bird ready to peck people's eyes out and I've never been prouder to be deemed a feeble little sheep under his protection. He likes to use the technique on the nerves while I go for the muscle since," her face deflated from its gleeful cheer as she mumbled, "well, it's not exactly new that each training session leaves me in a puddle of my own goo of crying flesh."

"It's not approved for a half-naked man to be in the company of a woman-" he began to decline since Malik would lecture him about maintaining Vivian's virtue. Frankly, that crafty badger was anything but innocent and wouldn't be surprised if he saw her running naked for fun in a creek one day.

"Altaïr, any thought of riding you like a mad stallion went out the window when you snored on the first day" she shot back sarcastically because she wasn't itching to do the horizontal tango and he sputtered awkwardly to her bold words. Perfect, now she'd ingrained that scandalous image in his head! Unlike Ezio who would charm his way through rejection, Altaïr became flustered like a schoolgirl whenever sex was involved. It was downright hilarious to Vivian as he tried to feign offense for being deemed unworthy and she laughed to his ruffled expression when he glared at her. She decided to nip the topic in the bud before they ventured into more scandalous territory that would leave him blushing (oh, how she wanted to test her capabilities for that) and pointed out matter-of-factly, "We're not anywhere near civilization so I can claim this piece of land in the name of Sub-Zero and call it Lego Land. I can also implement the imperial rule that anybody named Altaïr will be a manservant for life to anyone named Vivian."

"You love making a mockery of my time" he muttered flatly as he stood up to wipe the dirt off his knees and palms to end his workout. Vivian hadn't provided much resistance to his pushups and would have to find heavier weight next time. Maybe he could use flat pieces of wood stacked together with river rocks on top- anything that offered decent resistance.

"Goodness no, that would be hypocrisy on my studies" she chuckled softly since Altaïr was a serious persona with humor but there was no question as to whether she respected him. How could she not when he'd saved her life more than once? Not to mention, he was her knight in shining armor when he squashed nasty bugs that were too fat for her feet to squish. Who wouldn't love their own personal bug killer? She smiled earnestly to her grumpy companion since their chat had stirred a little gloom in his heart and admitted, "It might not be the safest or civil of times but it has you and Malik. . .that makes it worth my wile."

Well, maybe he could try it just this once.

Five minutes later, Altaïr lay on his soft bedroll inside his tent with Vivian standing on the center of his back. Whatever he'd originally believed had been _completely_ correct after all. Who was sane enough to allow a living person to walk over them? His right cheek pressed firmly into his bedding as her small feet left red indentations on his shoulders with each move and he growled heatedly, "I'm beginning to believe you lied to me, treacherous badger."

"No. . .just highly exaggerated my qualities" she restated with her crafty wordplay but sat down to straddle his back, facing forward towards his head. She'd been head over heels in joy that he'd actually let her touch him (in a platonic way) without fearing for her life. What fan wouldn't enjoy giving him a back rub as they molded his skin like putty? It was absolutely fantastic! His frequent growling, however, reminded her that he wasn't feeling 'fabulous' in the slightest and she spoke slowly, "Before you hurl me across the field, tell me where the knots are and I'll do my best to knead them away."

"That's better" he grunted painfully between thinned lips since she'd literally been trampling him under her feet and was thankful she didn't have a heavy weight. Still, he wasn't keen on having her on his back as he played a lame horse so she'd better try her best or he _would_ hurl her across the field.

"You're definitely stronger than I gave you credit for and it was a lot" she admitted proudly to her old gamer self that had spent hours lavishing the man in fanfiction that was never published. It was so much better to read online so she'd hidden her little copy like a bashful kitten between her mattress. Her thumbs pressed against the start of his shoulders blades to smooth the tight muscles and while he tried to fall asleep to ignore her, she blathered on, "You've risen from your old standings in my book. You're not at Superman's level just yet but you're definitely past Captain America and he's awesome. Also. . ."

He would've preferred poking himself in the eye with his knife than hearing this.

Ten minutes later, Malik walked by the assassin's tent and paused immediately when he heard sharp grunting from inside. Well, if Altaïr wanted to exercise or take care of a few urges- _gah!_ He didn't want to blind his mind with that ghastly thought. When Vivian's voice mixed in with the grunting, Malik's brotherly protectiveness arose because nobody would harm the historian or sully her honor. How dare Altaïr decide to turn a charmed eye towards her? Had he no shame with a child back in Masyaf? With that in mind, the honorable dai stormed into the tent with valiant courage to face whatever carnal act was-

He found Vivian digging her left elbow into the lowest part of Altaïr's left shoulder blade to deliver some tough love on a stubborn knot that failed to budge. It needed a lot of elbow grease to do away with it and she gave it her best shot to kill it. Altaïr, on the other hand, had painful red welts from the other previous massage areas over his back and was holding onto a blanket for support. Malik could clearly see there was no pleasure at all in that face as it resembled excruciating torture while Vivian balanced herself on his back. This was. . .not what he expected to find at all.

Vivian hung on like a stubborn barnacle as her pink tongue stuck out from between closed teeth and she mumbled firmly, "C'mon, you. Turn into mush!"

"Go back to the previous move, you're killing my muscle!" Altaïr demanded swiftly with a painful yell since her strongest touch turned out to be too much to bear. Had she been seized by a sudden form of strength? He'd never have believed her arms could carry any serious firepower and wanted her off immediately before she tore something internally. His white knuckles thrashed against the blanket as she brought the mighty assassin down to his knees with her horrible massage skills and he grunted painfully, "I didn't think you could be strong in any way. Get off, you little imp!"

For that, Vivian used her right index finger to deliver a wet willie to his right ear and laughed to the disgusted exclamation about being sullied. How dare she put that dirty finger in his ear canal without permission? Had she no shame?! Malik decided to exit before they realized he'd walked into that bizarre scene and decided it was better left alone. As long as the two weren't locked in an amorous embrace, he was fine. He liked being sane and would not join their eccentric behavior because the two were definitely reflecting each other's personalities with every passing day.

_I could handle Altaïr but a having a mini-Altaïr in Vivian will be too much to bear_, he sighed in dismay because he was not looking forward to having her imitate the man. He was there to keep their group balanced as he kept Vivian by his side to maintain her sanity but with each day she spent with Altaïr, he was reeling her in to join his side. It was like seeing a child run off with a man that would only bring him grief and he thought, _I am too young to be a father, especially to those two._

* * *

A week later, the trio was gathered at a creek created from the white Nile River but it was safe for swimming as natural barriers kept predators like crocodiles and hippos from veering there. The weather was nice enough that mosquitoes were rare and they were glad to be away from the horrible festering birth grounds of the itchy critters. The companions had camped uphill for a protective defense against wildlife but before sunset, they had decided to venture down to the creek and enjoy themselves in the quiet nature. They were the only human beings around for miles and the isolation was preferable as the weather treated them kindly with its breezy wind.

"Come on, buddy, you can do it!" Vivian grinned ecstatically as she treaded water and watched Altaïr practice a front crawl in the water as his face was contorted in frustration. He was not happy in the slightest today! She squealed happily with joy as he achieved the best stroke for his assassin hunting in the water. Since that day in Egypt, she had slowly been teaching him how to swim in river inlets and creeks to develop his skills. It had started out quite slow due to him hissing like a furious cat and clawing onto her but once she managed to draw Malik to get him to behave, the fear left. Malik's teaching style had been to simply leave him in the water to see how he fared when the dramatics were pulled away but Vivian tended to coddle the assassin. The man had an odd flair for drawing sympathy from her when he was in pain or faced with the possibility of death.

Gradually, she'd taught him the basics and started with the backstroke since it gave him the confidence to swim without breaching the water with his face. Since then, he'd proceeded to swim efficiently with the front stroke and was currently finishing with the butterfly as the last. She'd changed its name to the 'silent assassin' when he objected that it was too feminine and demanded a suitable name to fit his style. Both she and Malik were proud of his achievement since they knew he felt inadequate about his inability to swim but now, he didn't have to fear drowning.

Vivian had no issue treading water in her makeshift twelve century swimsuit since the men wanted her covered from the neck down so she'd thrown on breeches and a tunic with rolled up sleeves. Of course, her companions were perfectly all right going topless and it reminded her of the ugly duckling because she was definitely isolated from having assassin appeal. Her inner ugly duckling paid no mind as she batted the water with her hands and squealed with glee to her first student, "Come to mama."

"I am _not_ your child!" Altaïr retorted with furious embarrassment since he lacked the swimming experience of the two and would not place him below Vivian on the skill bar. Even Malik was swimming circles around them with a single arm! He hated to admit he was envious of his friend but Altaïr was rather proud of being the best at everything. He wasn't going to be cocky about it like he used to but he wanted to add another skill to his belt that most assassins already had. Frankly, he hated swimming because the unknown depths could swallow him at any time if the current shifted. He wore a scowl fit for any worthy foe as he eyed the blue water suspiciously and didn't hesitate to disclose sharply, "I don't like this, Vivian. I feel like a drunken horse."

Malik swam by with a graceful move that cut right through the two and grinned wittily to gloat, "You move like one too."

Altaïr threatened to swim after him and beat him down with a river reed for daring to insult his dominance over the treacherous water. Vivian grabbed his left shoulder before he tried to sneak off using the ridiculous 'dragonfly' stroke since having a drowned Altaïr on her hands would sink the entire future into disarray. Being wary of the water, she thought he'd admit defeat and return to his lesson but the man was a furious eagle ready to claw eyes out. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to immobilize him completely since he was fairly new to the water and couldn't outswim neither she nor Malik. Her round chin rested on one of her arms as she clung to him with all her might to end his struggle and ordered hastily with a firm face, "Don't make me wrap my legs around you like a crazy mad crab. I will literally be your newest swimming backpack through this creek."

Like a petulant child, he flicked his head towards the swimming dai as Malik headed towards the center of the creek and hissed, "But he-"

"Stated his opinion and you've yet to finish" she finished for him to nip his rebelliousness in the bud and released him back into the water with her most serious face plastered on. He treaded water with a frown since he'd never received any of Vivian's reprimanding looks and decided that he'd never have her as a teacher again. He enjoyed learning on his own because nobody told him what to do and he'd become accustomed to ordering _her_ around. Eagles didn't learn from badgers, they devoured them! Vivian had shifted from a pesky one to his little friend and he dismissed the tempting idea to dunk her underwater when she smiled gently, "You've improved considerably given the fact that you pulled my hair out in the first try, almost drowned me in the second, cried in-"

"I _didn't_ cry!"

"You cried? Like a child? Or a manly sob?" Malik burst into boisterous amused laughter but controlled it as he tried to sound sympathetic. Unlike Altaïr, he'd learned to swim at a young age and adjusted when he lost his arm to keep the skill. If he'd known that Altaïr couldn't swim, he would've tried to help him years ago but part of him was tickled to hilarity to see him cursing the water. The mere idea that his friend could cry from the fear of drowning was earth-shattering . . . and hilarious.

Vivian ignored the echoing laughter as the dai headed to shore by swimming on his back to carry out his hysterics before he accidentally drowned. She hid a little smile by biting the back of her lips with her teeth to muffle any arising laughter since the thought of him huddling in a corner in dripping clothes with crocodile tears was rather hilarious. She grasped Altaïr's shoulders in both hands before he attempted another chase after their friend to carry out his reed attack and wrestled with the assassin one more time. It was a good thing he wasn't confident enough to swim with the extra weight on his back and she forced him to focus on the brighter aspect of his lessons, "The point is, you've come this far. You can finish this and practice the rest whenever we're in a safe area but you're almost done. You're swimming without my help and this isn't something you could do half a year ago. Take pride in that because you've earned it."

The sides of his lips twitched as he acknowledged it and managed a small smile of gratitude when she offered one. She squeezed his shoulders for one last boost of encouragement and offered her help one last time, "If you need me to guide your legs with this last method, I can easily do so-"

"Vivian, I'm more liable to kick you unconscious" he stated dryly since he lashed out whenever someone touched him without warning, especially when he couldn't see them. After years of being an independent man that lived in the shadows, he'd become accustomed to striking anyone that approached him. He grabbed her hands to pull them off his shoulders because he needed to do this alone and heard her feet stop splashing water as she'd decided to doggie paddle with her legs. Altaïr gave her hands a reassuring squeeze that sent a light blush to her cheeks since their hands had only touched once after killing a Templar. As he turned around, he caught the rosy tint as he swam around her and asked with amusement in his voice, "Are you blush-"

"Swim, assassin man" she cut him off with a flustered look since they'd never initiated skin contact like that and cursed the lingering sensation of his calloused hands over hers. When had a working man's hands become so damned attractive? He was fit like a fiddle, strong as stone, scarred like any warrior, and grumpy as an old cat but he managed to weave himself under her skin with each passing day. Not even the water helped to cool off the heat settling onto her cheeks and she dunked herself underwater to drench her head in its soothing coldness.

Altaïr followed her instructions but grunted irritably under his breath when he missed a specific movement. It wasn't any better when Malik swam by with his own modified version and a pearly smile that had Altaïr frowning all over again. Was he really that bad?

"You can do it, follow your Mother Goose" Vivian piped up cheerfully with a goofy little smile as she pretended to mimic a goose and Altaïr decided a watery death was preferable than following her. She decided to swim in her wacky form despite his resistance and Altaïr hated that he was stuck between a woman imitating a goose and a one-armed man that was naturally graceful in the water.

He finished a little sloppy in his 'silent assassin' stroke but it was a finish nonetheless so Vivian dubbed it a passing C. It didn't have to be perfect but as long as he could swim so she was happy. Plus, she wasn't looking forward to failing an assassin that could break her in half once they returned to land. She placed her hands on his shoulders to stop his lap around the creek because the butterfly was not his best stroke but wouldn't sink his confidence. He was a determined man, even if he knew the odds stacked against him, and she concluded cheerfully, "You have completed your training, my padawan."

"I understood the former and that's what I'm going with" he stated bluntly because he had no time for jargon but ruffled the top of her head with triumph. He had conquered the perilous water that could've been his grave in previous years and could rest easy knowing he could swim.

Vivian let him be since he appeared to be in cloud nine as he finished his swimming lessons and merely watched him practice over the water. His face had held the frustration but relief of a child learning to ride a bike and she felt sympathetic when he eyed Malik with a little envy for his perfect fluidity. After an hour in the water, her fingers had become wrinkly and she wanted to avoid looking like a prune. Heading for shore, she walked onto the shore to shake her limbs free of water and wrung her clothes to squeeze excess water onto the dry earth.

Altaïr noticed his quirky badger had left the water and with Malik swimming laps around the creek that put his beginner's skills to shame, decided that he didn't want to be in the water without her. He felt safer knowing she was beside him whenever he swam since she pulled him to the surface whenever he made a mistake. He enjoyed living and carefully swam back to the safe ground that would never give way under his feet until he felt the soft dirt underneath his fingers. Practice would help him perfect his strokes but for now, he would claw his way back onto his feet and back to Vivian's side.

Of course, he'd never voice his need to be beside her rather than swimming in uncertain waters since she'd more than likely bounce all over the place. Any compliment on his part sent her flying over the moon with glee and although he growled with annoyance for it, he was rather . . . pleased to cause that joy. She was stranger than women of his time but her cheerful optimism to lend a helping hand made up for every odd quirk.

"Thank you" Altaïr admitted softly as she wrung the ends of her black breeches and she glanced up with surprise in her eyes to the unexpected words. He was grateful for learning something new that had been one of his vulnerabilities in life and was now a fortification. He'd keep practicing as they traveled but for now, he could swim like anybody and that sufficed. There was nobody he could thank but Vivian since she'd offered in the first place because he wouldn't have attempted it alone.

Vivian moved her hands to wring her hair free of water as she tried to figure out what he was thanking her for and he supplied, "For teaching me to swim."

"No problem, thank you for helping me design this 12th century bathing outfit that didn't drown or embarrass me" she smiled brightly to return the same kindness since she'd showed him every piece of clothing she'd packed to ask for his input. With the lack of sunscreen in his era, she was more than eager to cover her skin to block the sun from her vulnerable cells. Vivian began her ascent on the slope to head back to camp as her wet toes sank into the soft earth as she walked and gathered the dirt onto them.

Altaïr followed since he wasn't fond of having wrinkly fingers and Vivian turned around to make a scrumptious offer, "If you help me skin the quail at camp, I'll make you some soup from the broth used to boil it. I found some squash and green salad plants in the bushes off to the west to give it flavor and we have bread we can dip it in."

She yelped in surprise when he picked her up to carry her away in the classic princess style and wrapped her arms around his neck in case he wanted to chuck her into the water. What happened to the thanks she'd just received? When he didn't throw her for an unexpected dive, she eyed him suspiciously since he'd never done anything like that before. He found all soups delectable since Vivian knew what to season her food with while he would've just chucked a random amount of salt and hoped for the best. Vivian couldn't help but smile to his relaxed and carefree expression since he was not the type of man to act as such. It was so peculiar to view him as a regular man and he agreed to her offer with an ecstatic voice that brought her laughter, "How can I refuse?"

Had he undergone a random personality transfer?

Malik quirked a curious eyebrow to their sudden behavior since his friend _never_ invaded anyone's personal boundaries. That had been his number one trait growing up since he only allowed specific people to ever lay a hand on his shoulder but here he was carrying a woman out of his own will. The two had become quite amicable over the months as they shared personal tales but Altaïr was showing more disclosure than usual. Was that the reason for his current behavior? When the two headed uphill alone, he called out to them as he emphasized the dangers of leaving him behind, "Of course, leave the man with one arm in the middle of open water! He can only- I don't know- _drown_!"

"Malik, you're the best swimmer out of both of us" Altaïr called back across the slope since Malik could swim a marathon and he ran off with Vivian in his arms towards camp. She quickly asked whether it was safe to leave him because despite all of his skills, one wrong move could drown you. There was absolutely no way she'd have her friend's death on her conscience just because she wanted to start supper. Altaïr assured he'd be fine since the dai had already survived worse in his life and wouldn't allow water to take his life so easily. Vivian wasn't convinced since she took it upon herself to care for the two heroes but Altaïr explained easily, "He wants to die gloriously. Me, I'd rather be asleep in my bed after eating a good dinner."

"You want to die by horrible indigestion?" she asked curiously but he caught the playful glimmer in her eyes as she feigned a frown. She had a way of twisting his words into hilarity and he directed a small glare in her direction but it only served to make her grin. Did she really think he suffered from gas and would torture his loved ones by leaving such a gift on his deathbed? He broke her playful masks easily and the way his brown hair clung in wisps around his forehead gave him a boyish expression as they walked. They rained droplets of water upon the dirt as he walked up the incline and she teased cheekily with a wag of her eyebrows, "Could you imagine the smell for the poor people that find you?"

"Normally, I would drop you for that jab" he stated casually and she clung on like a baby koala in fear that he'd make true on his word. Happy free ride or not, he was still an assassin and she wasn't about to suffer a spinal injury for it. Altaïr merely smirked to her reaction as she latched on to protect herself but he only said it for fear points. Yep, he still had it.

Vivian wasn't eager on testing her luck but had to poke the bear by asking, "Then why haven't you?"

"Your poison of kindness has infected me" he replied with an honest frown as he headed for camp and Vivian smiled proudly for toppling his tendency to drop, push, or whack her. It had reduced dramatically since their first days when he knocked her unconscious with the hilt of his knife so it was a huge improvement. Plus, her skull wouldn't hurt anymore. Altaïr, on the other hand, wasn't keen on the infectious friendliness she'd instilled in him and muttered morosely, "Why couldn't _I_ rub off on you?"

The world definitely didn't need any more Vivian's' lurking about.

"I guess I'm stubbornly resilient, like a cockroach" she smiled impishly to her tenacity to triumph in her goals and her grin turned sly the next second. He didn't like that shiny gleam in her green eyes whenever she met his gaze because it usually meant he'd be embarrassed, teased, or enraged. Her eyebrows wagged again as she lowered her voice to wink slyly, "You can still rub off on me, if you catch my drift?"

Altaïr coughed awkwardly as he realized he was carrying her too closely against his bare chest in sopping wet clothes. He was not looking forward to outlining any curves in her body since her large clothing usually hid her shape and he didn't want it being revealed at all. It wasn't often that he remembered she was a woman underneath it all and when he did, wanted that revelation to be shoved down the nearest gorge. Vivian saw the discomfort written over his face as he carried her and chuckled good-naturedly to dismiss, "I'm joking, Altaïr. After a year of my endless prattle, I would've thought you'd grown immune. I'll have to keep getting better to grant you immunity."

"Please don't, you'll be liable to pull me into a scandal somewhere" he declined with a dismal sigh to her crackpot plans and she grumbled out an agreement to abide by his wishes. He had to admit that for a duo, she was the shortest but wackiest out of both and wondered how much energy ran inside that lean petite body. He lifted her as she became his living dumbbell for a few seconds and her eyes widened into perfect circles. Was he weighing her? She stayed still to prevent being dropped since being lifted like a rolled up carpet wasn't an everyday occurrence and heard him comment under his breath, "Goodness, you're small."

"I'm a perfectly normal size, you just think it's odd because you're gigantic" she justified with a cheeky grin since she barely reached his shoulders and hated it when he held things over her head. He'd done it whenever she found something curious to study and forced her to stay on whatever task he'd assigned rather than slack off. If people thought Ezio was a tease, Altaïr brought an entirely different name to it when he made you feel tiny by dangling your inanimate desire over your head.

Altaïr wasn't buying it because many people were taller than her in his era and pointed out smartly, "Malik is even taller than you-"

"People are shorter now in the future, Sasquatch" she intervened with a quick lie since her height was dwarfed by both men and threatened to pull at his whiskers. She'd never touched his face but the single glare he sent her way when her fingers treaded too closely to his prized kitten whiskers kept her at bay. Being a horrible and guilty liar, she couldn't deny the truth from him too long and muttered dejectedly with a downcast glance, "Okay, fine, the population is actually tall like you and I'm actually a tiny bit considered small."

"A _tiny_ bit? I'm an entire head taller than you and more" he pointed out with amusement since he was considered a tall man in his time while Vivian was actually the normal height. Of course, he wouldn't say that just to see her squirm. It was interesting to learn another tidbit about the future and as their tents rose into view over the hill, he teased her with a mischievous smirk, "You can change in camp and I'll rock you to sleep like a swaddled baby, if you'd like-"

"You try that and you'll be walking with a bare face, mister" she cut in with deathly calm and leaned close to his face with puffed cheeks to show she meant business. If she was trying to appear threatening, it was a tragic flop. His eyes narrowed into a deadpan expression to make it crystal clear that he wasn't impressed by her little badger rage at all. Vivian attempted a different take on her humor as she kept a close distance to his face and preened playfully, "But you can hold me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear while I swoon femininely."

He groaned to her shift in demeanor as she turned the tables and hushed, "Vivian!"

"Hey, I like validation once in a while" she stated boldly and relaxed in his grip to lean back into her original position before he decided to drop her. Altaïr decided that no matter what he replied with, she would find a way to make it mortifying for him. Despite it all, Vivian appreciated the free ride from the awesome assassin and smiled widely to sigh blissfully, "For now, I will enjoy the rare princess style ride and dedicate my awesome win to the fans."

"Your paper fans?" he asked dryly to thwart her joy and she slumped in his hold like a sack of potatoes. Nothing killed her jokes faster than his own archaic logic and he knew just when to utilize that ammunition to blow them into smithereens.

"Eh, just take me to camp, man horse" she whimpered in disillusion and curled her limbs against him to resemble the exact swaddling child he'd mocked her about. She had to admit that the man was admirable in strength because she could barely carry her own weight and her spine would've undoubtedly broken in half if the roles had been reversed. Her day had become absolutely peachy as she hitched a ride on the same man that had let her fall off a horse but tried to ignore the hypnotic beat of his heart. It had a marvelous lub-dub that she could repeat in her head until she was asleep.

Humorously enough, they were already inside their small campground as he passed the unlit campfire. His arms barely received any decent exercise from carrying her and he lowered her down carefully so she could stand upright again. Vivian hopped out quickly with a bounce in her steps since her skin had broken into goosebumps and was ready to scuttle off. Although there was no breeze, the cold linen clothes were enough to make her shiver as they clung to her damp skin. She covered her chest with her arms quickly before he decided to call her pointy in rebuttal to her previous teasing and ran off to change quickly in her tent. She was more than happy to find a warm set of clothes waiting for her since she'd set them on top of her packs. If she had access to a dryer with clothing softener, she would've been in heaven.

Altaïr didn't see the rush to change since the cold clothing didn't bother him after walking for days in the pouring rain on more than one occasion. Vivian's safe civilian life often made him wonder if she'd turn him soft with all of her coddling but he rather liked it when she fussed over him. He'd never had anyone do so in his life and for the first time, he had someone that listened and provided him with a sanctuary to voice his concerns. After cleaning his feet free of dirt with water from a nearby bucket, he changed into his warm clothes and noticed a pair of brown breeches folded over his bedroll. He picked them up to realize they were a recent pair he'd ripped while hunting but had forgotten to sew because frankly, he had gotten a little lazy in his sewing. He'd fussed constantly about never having a decent pair of breeches after sorting through them all and finding holes in each one! Vivian had apparently decided to throw him a freebie to pacify his need for perfectly sewed pants and appreciated having a decent pair to wear.

When he finished changing into his dry breeches that bore no holes, he slipped into his comfortable boots and headed to fetch Vivian to begin cooking. He'd help her this time as a show of thanks for her small gift but he would need to start sewing his entire lot since he tore through the knees and edges often. Unfortunately, he sprung in uninvited into her tent as he pondered off in his mind and landed himself in figurative hot water. His mouth had reacted faster than his mind as he entered her private tent, "Viv-"

He'd caught her tying on the strings of her breeches while her bare back faced him, void of the breast band that covered her chest. There were no words to describe what he'd stepped into and he immediately wished he'd fallen into a trap with a dozen deadly Templars than her. Both of them wore the faces of frightened deer caught in headlights as they realized they were in the same tent and the silence was painfully deafening. Quickly, she used one hand to keep her pants tied as the spell broke and another to cover her bare chest as she screeched indignantly, "Out! Get out!"

He didn't have to be told twice and ran faster than he ever had in his life until he arrived in the outskirts of camp with a red blush that hadn't greeted his face in years. Well, he could now say he knew what type of figure existed under the loose clothing she wore and cursed the heavens for branding that sight into his head. He'd never really expected that at all because he lived easier believing she held no female parts and decided to ignore that moment for the rest of his life. Why had he been so careless in the first place?! He couldn't blame his ripped pants this time because that had been his own mistake so he was stuck with this new fact.

He kicked the dirt under his boots to help relieve the aggravation at having to face Vivian again after what happened. It had been fine when he'd seen Maria in such a manner but this was an entirely different woman and they were not in any sort of romantic entanglement. The more he tried to suppress the image of her lean arms fiddling with the front of her pants, the more it flashed in his eyes. It was a good thing he hadn't entered the tent with the front of her body facing it and decided to seize that as his stroke of luck.

In the end, he had to face that she was . . . attractive underneath it all.

When he pieced together the tethers of his sanity and returned to camp, she was dressed appropriately with everything but her face covered. This settled his beating heart back into its normal rhythm since each step had caused it to skyrocket like never before and feared he'd give himself a heart attack. When he noticed the pink blush across her beige cheeks, the entire moment surfaced in his mind all over again and he decided whether staying in his tent for the night would be a better choice.

Vivian managed a small smile as she saw his stiff robotic movements because she didn't want him to feel awkward over an honest mistake. Since he was a conservative gentleman, she could only imagine what was rampaging through his mind since she was meant to resemble an androgynous companion. The last thing she wanted was for their friendship to turn awkward after finally reaching harmonic stability and chuckled softly, "I guess your assassin prowling made you forget to knock first."

"I apologize for overstepping my bounds in your tent" he blurted quickly to unload the entire burden that he'd chucked onto his shoulders before she decided to yell his ear off. Truly, he never meant to trespass on purpose and intrude on her privacy because he respected her as a woman to do so. He didn't burst into every woman's tent like an idiot! She had every right to be mad since he stumbled into her home without ever announcing himself and would bear whatever punishment she deemed fit.

His beating heart calmed when she forgave him with a soothing tone as she caught the turmoil in his eyes and couldn't bear to be mad at him. He wasn't a lecherous man nor idiotic to walk into her tent and everyone was prone to careless mistakes once in a while. She invited him to sort through the mound of collected firewood that Malik had chucked near the logs since he'd been eager to swim and was still doing so. While their friend decided to become a living prune, Vivian grasped his shoulder to offer a firm squeeze of forgiveness and stated gently, "It was an accident, don't worry about it. Let's start this fire first and we can go check on Malik afterwards before he drowns or decides to be one with the creek."

He nodded quickly because he would rest easier knowing nothing changed but she added in with a warning finger, "But if it does happen again, I'll scald you."

He directed a small glare for the jab since permanent disfigurement wasn't amusing and her trademark grin returned to tease him, "No, it would kill your allure factor for the fans and I can't do that to them. I'll be seeing _you_ in the same manner if it occurs again."

"You have, I don't swim with tunics on" he pointed out flatly since he didn't like being constricted in the water and had already handed Vivian her compromise. Hmm, maybe he could squeeze out of-

"Egad, you're right!" she declared mischievously as she bumped her shoulder against his and he cursed himself for sticking his foot in his mouth. Why had he stopped thinking like a logical man after entering that tent? Had she placed something in his drinking water that day? Vivian leaned back on her feet as she stopped fixing the sticks for the fire and pondered on her revenge plot because it needed to be hilariously juicy. Altaïr was more than ready to hurl himself back into the creek for handing her that victory and wanted to implode out of existence like a star when she announced, "I want full backend nudity! I demand to see the ass that's brought a new meaning to assassins!"

She walked off to prepare their meal with a gleeful smile since the man put a whole new meaning to those robes when he walked. D'oh, now she really had to admit to herself she'd been watching him every once in a while. Ugh, maybe it would leave once she realized he'd claw her eyes out like a gargoyle for thinking he was handsome. As for Altaïr, he fought that same frustrating blush on his cheeks because he was not ready to bare himself in that way if he trespassed on her property.

_Wait, did she just admit she's admired by backside?_, he pondered with mortification since she'd thought about her new unspoken rule for quite a few seconds rather than leaving it be. On the other hand, it was better than her declaring she wanted full front nudity because he really would've dug himself into a physical hole to wallow in misery.

* * *

**A/N**: And we finally start on the road towards romance for the two as Vivian tries to fight off the tendrils that are slowly heading to her heart and Altaïr is more flustered than humanly possible. They'll finally arrive at Lake Victoria in the next chapter to commence the investigation on the new POE and we'll be seeing more hilarity between the two. I can't help but feel bad for Malik because he has to bear the two and it'll be worse when he sees Altaïr fussing over Vivian as he tries to solve the equation of Altaïr+ Vivian= two happy bunnies.

Thank you for the new alerts since the last chapter, I just got a few yesterday, so many gracious thank you's:

_xVentressx_: I'm glad I can always make my readers split their sides. Lol.

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: Time has indeed moved in Vivian's realm and she'll see the results of her disappearance near the end of the story. It's a bit sad for her because although she's made one family in the 1190s, her biological one has also moved on with a grieving process and she'll be reopening those wounds. Thankfully, I'd never make Vivian one of those tragic Mary Sue's whose family randomly dies or hates her guts for no apparent reason because they're a very loving family.

_Noveltycourage_: Whenever babies are involved, cute animals will make a chapter explode with the 'aww' factor. If you do have any questions, feel free to ask because I love answering them.

_ShizukaRen-Hime_: Altaïr is hilariously bodacious whenever he pops into Vivian's head to be praised as her favorite hero. Maria's a strong capable woman so I imagine she'd rather have pulled out her own child if medicine didn't insist she have a midwife by her side. I'm glad you liked her quotes since originally, I'd reserved a few for Vivian in the first draft after she became pregnant and literally fell through a log she was sitting on while Altaïr ran away from the plump 'dragon lady'. That didn't fit into the grand scheme I later developed so who better than the other pregnant woman in the story. Ezio indeed makes everyone happy which is why poor Altaïr feels miserable that everyone forgets him to run to his descendant, especially when Vivian is living beside him. I'm glad you love each chapter!

_KrnYong_: Hedgehogs are definitely cute! You're perceptive with Maria and Ilias since the two are very similar in personality because he leaves her be while Altaïr tended to poke her for attention. She's definitely beginning to feel the strain when a particular item symbolizes home and there's no way a normal person wouldn't feel that longing centuries away from their loved ones (unless you're a Sue). Since it took Altaïr a bit to trust Maria, it's been the same with Vivian but since the poor woman could never cause a dent in him, it's easier for him. You're right about breaking barriers since we need that to occur first before he decides to accept that 'yes, Vivian's crazier than a loon but she's my loon'. lol

_Guest_: I used to be just like Altaïr but learned in college when opportunity presented itself with a swimming class because I had his same fear of drowning. lol

_ThrowingTrees_: When he doesn't get his way, he can definitely turn cranky to force Vivian to pay attention to him.

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**Next Time**: _Lake Victoria- Not A Vacation  
_

Altaïr's mind hadn't relinquished the desire for soft bedding throughout the night and he'd wriggled in his sleep like a caterpillar until he bumped into a soft mass. Over the hours, he huddled against the mystery lump of plushness until he barely felt the twinge of pain from the hard floor as he slept on. The assassin was on cloud nine while the lump noticed throughout their deep sleep that something was wrong with their natural pressure. Being smothered by a heavy beast was not what they sought in their sleep so the huddled lump decided in its subconscious that enough was enough.

An hour before the crack of dawn, Vivian jolted awake when she could no longer bear the painful weight that had pulled her from sleep. She realized that she wasn't sinking in imaginary mud but she might as well be in reality. On her stomach, her right arm was uncomfortably wedged between her bosom and the floor while her shoulder blades ached from the weight of one mighty snoring bear- aka Mr. Parkour himself. Apparently, he'd managed to roll himself onto her to substitute her as his new sleeping mat and she couldn't believe the lousy beginning to her day. Forget the handsome assassin on her back, her poor limbs were aching with every inhale of his mouth as he flattened her like a crepe. She would not be Rigby!

"No way, man, I will not be the crappy sidekick that gets the bad end of the stick" she groaned miserably and tried to shrug him off but the man was heavier than anticipated. Curse those well-sculpted muscles that eluded the eyes of many! She decided to take the road less traveled and pinched the end of his nose to jerk him awake since pushing him off was out of the question.

He coughed as his airway was sealed off and awoke to find a wriggling historian underneath his frame. How had he- oh, now the plush lump of softness made sense. He'd almost flattened Vivian into a flat cake. . .hmm, he didn't know whether that was necessarily a bad thing. It was a bit embarrassing to know he'd used her as a bedroll but turned even more mortifying when she leaned back against him to escape. Years from now, he would wish that particular event never happened and could only pray that the unknown Desmond never saw it.

Vivian's hand tried to push him away as she wriggled underneath him for freedom but while he tried to contain her frantic movements, her hand wandered into personal assassin territory down below. His eyes widened in shock where her hand landed because he did not wear his layered robes or armor to bed and she yelped with mortification, "_Ah!_ I touched something!"

She channeled her inner Superman and yanked herself out of that tight spot after accidentally feeling . . . well, she was glad her lady parts didn't hang. Her entire face was red to match a cherry as the lingering sleep was knocked aside and she refused to look at Altaïr, hyperventilating the embarrassing ordeal. Great, she'd just gone where no AC fan had gone before and where Maria managed to in Acre. This was not how she wanted her day to start and had lived better believing he had the anatomy of a Ken doll! She felt blood rushing to her face since this was one experience she hadn't counted on and snapped quietly, "This is what happens when you use people as beds, hands land on your hidden blade and it was entirely accidental. I did not fondle you . . . willingly."

He was ready to shoot a retort about being sullied but realized that yes, he had been the one to crush her during sleep. Was it really to much to ask for a decent bed in an inn of all places? Nobody could sleep on stone! As for the latter part . . . ugh, it was embarrassing enough. Was it too late to wear armor to bed? He raised a hand to show everything would be fine and there didn't need to be a fuss about it. It was a simple honest mistake and he'd done the same unwillingly when he'd entered her tent weeks ago. Although, that sudden touch. . ._no!_ A million times no! This was Vivian!

He raised his hands to calm her down and stated quietly to avoid waking Malik, "It's all right. Go back to your bed and we'll sleep for the rest of the time."

"You won't roll over and crush me again?" she asked tentatively as she massaged her sore shoulder and slowly crept back to her ruffled blankets. She didn't want to reenact the same event hours from now and eyed him suspiciously.

"I'll try my best not to" he replied tiredly and slumped back onto his awful bedding after enduring awful sleep. If he'd slept over Vivian for hours, he could only imagine how many aches she already had because she was lighter and smaller than him.

"Good or I _will_ have to kick you there" she insinuated innocently as she eyeballed the exact area she'd accidentally grazed and curled into her fetal position. The tips of her ears reddened because she didn't want to look or know about that vicinity of his person for the rest of her days. Thankfully, the hard stone floor took away her attention as she tried to make herself comfortable and muttered irritably, "Jeez, how do people sleep on this?"

"Easy, you use others as pillows" he replied sarcastically because his own did absolutely nothing to help and she nudged his ribs playfully with her elbow. She found the soft spot between two ribs and he batted her hand away with an empty threat, "Don't make me crush you into paste."

"But I'm small and insignificant, like a bug" she smirked mischievously with an innocent voice because her current sleeping pose made her half his size. He sighed under his breath because he would never hurt her and hated that she knew it. She was weaving herself under his skin like said bug but it wasn't for the worst.

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_Thank you for reading the story and I'll be back with more of Altair, Vivian, and Malik shenanigans! ^-^_


	32. Lake Victoria

**Inspired Music: **_Jesper Kyd- "Sailing To Constantinople" and Immediate- "Believe"  
_

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**Lake Victoria  
**

* * *

"Where's the assassin?"

Bashir covered his face with his hands for a few seconds before removing them and exclaiming cheerfully, "There he is!"

"Where's the assassin? There he is!" he repeated dramatically to emphasize the archaic peek-a-boo version to bring joy to his little buddy. Unfortunately, it did not have the desired effect.

A frightened cry echoed from the receiving party as baby Darim did _not_ enjoy having a face randomly appear before his eyes. His chubby limbs flailed with irritancy as the two month old child sought the one person that provided him with protection and warmth. His blue eyes refused to glance at Bashir as the young assassin had appointed himself babysitter for the day but it was not going as planned.

"Don't you trust me by now? You've barfed and pooped on me enough to be named my brother" Bashir sighed aloud since Darim was not becoming used to his presence but wouldn't quit until he was. He wanted Altaïr to be proud of his progress after taming Rafiki as a partner in crime and would add the stubborn baby to the list. He gripped one of his bare little toes as they fidgeted and smiled to preen, "For one so small, there's a lot of fight in you."

Ilias entered the inventor's laboratory with disbelief written across his face and approached the young man to demand, "Bashir, why do you have a baby in possibly the _worst_ room in Masyaf?"

Bashir blinked with confusion since his office space seemed pretty safe and drawled slowly, "I thought the armory was the most dangerous place."

"All right, second most dangerous place" Ilias corrected hastily since nobody ventured to his level and crossed his arms for an answer. Altaïr wanted him far away where he couldn't blow up anyone and having his son there would be a cause for alarm. Maria had entrusted him to care for her child when she was unavailable and since they both trusted Bashir, allowed him to be with the child for a few hours.

"I thought he'd find it fun" Bashir explained innocently since there were books, containers, weapons, and other knickknacks he'd picked up along the way. Science was such a broad subject to peruse through and the mathematics, not to mention chemistry, for concocting everything from weapons to poisons was fascinating! He picked up the crying baby to place him against his chest to rub Darim's back and smiled at his superior, "There's pointy weapons, colorful dust with different reactions, prototype gadgets- everything a child would find interesting!"

For the first time in his life, Ilias found himself deadpanning at the young assassin because everything he named was liable to kill the child. He was not going to risk Maria's ire since the woman was still settling into motherhood after surviving her first month nursing a newborn and waking up at all hours of the night. Being a new mother, she was still wary of her own decisions since she'd never had a person depending on her for complete survival and would do her best. He held out his arms to collect the child and Bashir groaned regretfully as he handed over little Darim, bringing an end to his babysitting day.

His groan shifted into an outrageous tone when Darim turned from a fussy baby to a cooing one in the master assassin's arms as Ilias held him close. The older assassin held his little digits and spoke to him in Arabic to accustom the child to the language of the land since Maria stuck to English. Bashir couldn't believe the child had already turned into happy putty in Ilias' hands and ran a hand through his short black hair to sigh exasperatedly, "That child is fickle."

"No, he's just smart enough to cry when madmen bring him into a lair riddled with traps" Ilias replied with an amused tone despite his straight face since the baby had become accustomed to his daily presence. He understood that motherhood, just like fatherhood, was no easy transition and would help Maria in any way he could. Abbas was more than ready to demand that she be kicked out a week after delivering Darim but Ilias had put his foot down concerning Maria's permanent stay at Masyaf. He could only wonder how far Altaïr was into his trip because he had quite the adorable son waiting for him.

"It's not- _ouch!_" Bashir protested the safety of his workspace but yelped when something sharp jabbed his back. He turned around to find a sharp piece of iron that he'd been working with the blacksmith to forge into a new type of crossbow. Ilias' black eyebrow rose in affirmation to his previous statement and the younger man quickly defended, "That was just one random instance."

Ilias shook his head as he headed towards the door with baby Darim, who had taken to batting his square chin, and remarked nonchalantly, "By the way, there's acid dripping onto the floor from a broken glass cup on the far right."

Bashir sighed aloud to his miserable luck of the day and proceeded to tidy up his workspace before something else went wrong. He tended to forget about his side projects when another venture excited him and the arrival of baby Darim had kept his free time occupied. The baby wasn't taking to him at all but Maria encouraged him to keep trying since she trusted him.

Ilias headed for Altaïr's workspace since he had a meeting scheduled soon with the Egyptian branch of the assassins. Their order had slowly spread to branch over north Egypt and was currently penetrating into the south before turning west where Templar activity was on the rise. He found the quiet in the scholars' library soothing for working and Darim peeked up at him with his darling blue eyes to coo affectionately. As the days grew into weeks, he fell in love with the small child since Al Mualim had banned bonds between parents and children so he had never known his parents. Altaïr had done away with the old tradition and Ilias couldn't see how forming bonds with your own children could weaken you. Now, children would be allowed to be nurtured and taught alongside their parents without fear of being separated by their own brotherhood.

He tickled Darim's clothed side as he ascended the main stairway and smiled warmly, "You've ensnared us around your finger, you know."

Darim merely blinked with his black lashes and settled against his arm since he could always fall asleep without worry with Ilias. In his young mind, his mother and Ilias were one unit while Bashir was the goofy cousin that visited every other day. His blue eyes lit up when he saw his mother sitting on a nearby chair with a book in hand and although she had undereye circles of exhaustion lining her round face, she looked positively radiant to him. Maria heard his familiar cooing and glanced away from her book to see her son calling out to her with a waving hand that beckoned her. She'd headed out to have an hour for herself after nursing him earlier and couldn't help but feel like a human cow due to how fast she produced milk. There were so many changes in her body that had begun occurring after the birth that surprised her but she was taking it in stride to prevent being drowned under it all.

"Hello there, my little Darim" she cooed sweetly as she scooped him from Ilias' arms to plant a soft kiss on his fair forehead. Although he was two months, her characteristics were dominant as he held her black hair and blue eyes. She could only wonder if Altaïr's physical traits would appear in him later on but she was happy with her son. Holding him close against her shoulder, she smiled tiredly at Ilias since he'd been a blessing in disguise for her and sighed, "I thought motherhood would get easier but I swear it's like my body's falling apart."

"Don't tell me you're worried about the baby weight left over?" he asked with light amusement since her old figure wouldn't return overnight. Although he hadn't known Maria before her pregnancy, her shoulder width told him she wasn't very big and she looked perfectly adequate to him. That wasn't to say he'd been looking at her inappropriately but a child physically changed you before and after a pregnancy.

She shook her head since that would be rid from her body with training once she was rested enough to begin sharpening her skills again. Goodness, how she missed swinging a sword and knocking a man's teeth out! Sitting back down in the wooden armchair, she leaned against the back and touched her limp braid of black hair to admit sullenly, "My hair hasn't stopped falling out and it's been weeks now. I'm worried I'll be bald by next month."

"I don't think Darim will mind if you go bald and we assassins love our hoods for more than just camouflage" Ilias spoke gently to lighten her worry since Maria really didn't have another woman to speak with. It was fine to be a single woman in an age where she was meant to be cooking inside a home but now that she _was_ a mother, she needed a similar ear from one of her own gender. It was bad enough to feel alien in her body when she was pregnant but now that it was over, the sensation had not ended. If anything, it felt worse because Darim was no longer the cause and it was suffocating to feel like another person altogether.

She hated losing her foothold over the confidence she exuded to maintain her strong spirit in the harsh world. All she had to comfort her was her darling babe and she would put aside her own worries to keep him safe in his new world. Closing her eyes, she blocked away the negative thoughts on her appearance but heard Ilias speak quietly, "Motherhood is a test and you will overcome all aspects of it."

The corners of her lips turned into an appreciative smile as she kept her eyes closed and Ilias suggested hesitantly, "I might not be a woman but. . .well, if you ever need an ear to hear your worries, I am here. I will never judge you and you can confide in me."

Her blue-gray eyes opened to meet his brown hue as she found someone to empathize with her and whispered faintly, "I would truly appreciate that, if you do mean it."

"I do" Ilias affirmed kindly since Maria's tough outer shell had melted enough to allow him to view the vulnerable side now that she'd entered motherhood. He hadn't met many women in his life due to the laws outside of their order but she was a strong heart. At the moment, she was battling with her own body to find her old self but she would win in due time.

Maria was grateful to find a true friend after years of only encountering pretentious individuals who only wanted to improve their social standing by association. Darim whimpered against his mother's neck since he wasn't sleepy and wanted to see more of his new surroundings now that he'd begun to travel out of his room. She tickled the soles of his bare feet with a small smile as Darim cooed and put Ilias' offer to the test, "My breasts are double their normal size and _every_ sound from Darim has them leaking milk."

Ilias' stoic face cracked at the seams since he'd never expected to hear such descriptive words about that particular area of a woman. Maria eyed him to await his response to her bold words because she really did want to get it off her chest (no pun intended) and he cleared his throat awkwardly to state, "Well, it seems _I_ will be tested as well."

* * *

A total of twelve months of travel finally brought the trio of wanderers to the start of the largest river in the world, Lake Victoria. The sight of witnessing the large river branch into a lake, larger than it was in current times, was a relieving sight that brought a weary smile to all of their faces. They had traveled for so long with the expectation of seeing the lake and when they did, it just reminded them of each single day that had led them there. Malik was joyous to know he'd survived without being driven insane by Altaïr while the other man pondered over his personality changes since dragging Vivian along for the ride. Vivian, well, she was just happy to see large lake that beckoned her to swim in it until she was squeaky clean.

"We should find an inn since we will be here for at least a week or so figuring out where this item is" Malik advised the two as he observed the atmosphere of the surrounding area of the lake and it did not carry the hospitality of Giza. There were traders about which would give them enough cloth and hygienic materials, farmers bringing their harvested loads which meant food for sale, and spice merchants that carried all sorts of herbs and spices. The mouth of the lake was packed with numerous merchants in their shops or wagons as they traded their goods, beckoning all newcomers to visit their shops.

However, the fact that Altaïr could see slavers holding their public auctions and keeping their private collection by ropes didn't sit well with him. He'd heard and seen slavers- some were bearable by offering decent necessities to indentured servants but others would sell their own families for coin. People that were weak or handicapped made the best choices for housekeeping types since strong slaves were for royal families within kingdoms or elite members of society. It sent a chill down his spine to witness the forlorn defeated faces of human beings being treated like animals. Behavior like this is what made the core beliefs of the Templar order since free will (which Assassins protected) could twist down a dark path. He would be extremely cautious while wandering the area and advised Vivian carefully, "Keep your face covered and never stray far from me when we land."

Vivian covered the lower half of her face to hide her features since her male oriented clothing and taped chest would keep questions at bay. Plus, her light skin would stand out a bit among the caramel, olive, and brown tones as African and Middle Eastern cultures gathered there. There might have even been a few merchants traveling from Asia by sea as well. She was a bit satisfied to see no European ethnicities since the Templars they encountered were mostly of that majority but one couldn't be too cautious. Hopefully, her stature would make people believe she was an adolescent boy but slavery held no age restriction.

"The POE's supposed to be near the Kenyan border, from what your map showed" Vivian added in helpfully to steer the captain of their little boat to the east since seeing people dressed in rags didn't make her comfortable. She had been lucky to find Altaïr when she wandered Jerusalem and if she hadn't, she would've probably been killed by an animal, sent to jail for being too liberal (and an outspoken woman), or died of starvation. It was hard to see how others could think themselves superior enough to control the self-will of others and never thought she'd find herself facing slavery. The image burned into her mind was heinous enough as she glanced away from the poor people and she suggested shakily, "Would it help us to look on the other side? Maybe for something more cheerful?"

"If it keeps us closer but I will lock our door from the inside to ensure safety" Altaïr agreed wholeheartedly and rowed away from the crowded western side of the lake to head southeast. He didn't want to risk losing Vivian within the hour since it wasn't Giza and Malik's physical handicap could have someone thinking he was their next cash cow. Malik could handle himself without issue but Vivian would be his main concern because losing her would be problematic (and worrisome- but he wouldn't admit it). This was a new area they were dealing with and it wouldn't be a walk in the park as he mumbled, "Hopefully, our money will be good here or we'll have to melt it down for trade value."

The trio was more than ready to cross the lake on their little boat despite the ferries driving traders across the lake but they didn't have money to waste. They were happy to leave the crowds to row their canoe east to the Kenyan border but they didn't have the manpower to outrun the ferries. It became apparent rather quickly when the large wooden boats surpassed them within seconds and a few delved too close for comfort. Altaïr grit his teeth in annoyance because it didn't take much for one to peer over a boat and see there were other people on the lake. Didn't they have navigation officers onboard?

"Go faster" Malik insisted when a boat nearly hit the end of their canoe as it appeared ready to burst with passengers. It seemed that the lake was a bustling trade center for many lands and arriving in the middle of an afternoon meant everyone was bustling to either go home or confirm deals. Vivian could only feel like a tiny compact car in the middle of a freeway as big wooden ferries pushed by and caused rippling waves to rock their small boat. Didn't they see them?

"I'm giving it all I have, they should learn some manners!" Altaïr yelled with irritancy and accentuated the last words to echo across the lake as he eyed the passing boats. What kind of captain would recklessly ignore a little canoe on its own? Was it because he didn't want to pay with his hard-earned coin? He'd rather drown than pay them to carry him on their 'mightier than thou' boat and kept rowing towards the east.

Vivian's cheeks were red with embarrassment as she rowed since she never felt tinier in her life as large boats passed by. If that didn't make her feel sluggish as she gave the oars all she had, she didn't know what did. The trip turned worse when they rowed away from one boat heading east to give them the path and inadvertently crossed into the other lane for a boat heading west. When people started snapping at them over the edges of the ship, she wished to ignore the words she heard in perfect translation. Altaïr was strong enough to allow the words to roll off his back since he didn't understand the multiple dialects (only the Arabic language) but she whimpered worriedly, "Oh god, they're yelling at us like angry bees. Bees!"

"Can you tell them to stick it where the sun doesn't shine? I speak Arabic, you sheeps!" Altaïr continued yelling angrily when another boat passed them on its return trip and he waved the paddle like an old cranky man. Malik felt the strong tendency to facepalm since he could do nothing but watch Altaïr shout indignantly at people while Vivian appeared to shrink with each passing second.

Altaïr caught her trying to resemble a little fly on the wall and narrowed his eyes to lecture firmly, "Don't let anyone minimize you. You have a right just like anybody else and shouldn't be shrinking away because somebody deemed this their lake."

Vivian already felt out of place in the archaic era and women were already minimized as it was. Altaïr was absolutely correct about never admitting defeat and Vivian emerged from her figurative turtle shell to don her mad badger pants. The handy unexplained gift of understanding languages would help and she'd aid her friend since he appeared ready to burst. Besides, it was always her dream to blast enemies away with humiliating fear alongside the 12th century Batman. Using Altaïr's rage to fuel hers, she yelled out to any incoming ferries that treaded closely to their little boat, "Show some respect for the little guy! Doesn't your captain know how to steer? That's right, I own this little boat and proud of it because I can go anywhere I please!"

Altaïr found himself impressed that she listened to him and their noise allowed them to be ignored by other boats as they finally took notice. Malik felt like a man with two harking parrots on his shoulders but he was stuck going along for the ride and didn't have the luxury to abandon ship. Vivian poured every ounce of energy into her rowing as she pretended to be a little tugboat in the early 20th century and had to pull the ocean liner called Altaïr. It brightened her day after seeing the type of trades occurring on the land and the horrible captains with 'lake rage' (as she called it).

"Move away! Go around! _Around!_" Altaïr yelled furiously when passengers from one boat decided to wave their hands in the air towards their boat. The assassin was not about to be bullied from the only path heading east and wished a rogue tidal wave could've carried the blasted boat away. Unfortunately, they weren't anywhere near the ocean so he was stuck paddling onwards with his pride intact but slowly disintegrating with each sound aimed towards the canoe.

Ugh . . . they would have to trade their little boat soon.

"What is this? The river revolution of the boating industry?" Vivian shouted indignantly since she'd _never_ encountered this many boats in her life. She lived close to the water back in Berkeley but what she was enduring now was plain ridiculous! Wherever she looked, one boat covered her line of sight and cursed arriving at this hour of the day. They would've arrived sooner but Altaïr wanted all of his clothes to be spiffy so he'd bleached his white robes under the sun for an entire day while she and Malik were ready to chuck him into the river. Today, it seemed they might just do that after being caught in a madhouse of sea traffic.

When a rabble of passengers laughed at them on a ship heading to the Ugandan side of the lake, Altaïr scowled heatedly and snapped, "At least _I _own this boat! What say you?"

"Altaïr, would you-" Malik interrupted since it was best to concentrate on the road ahead of them because yelling at boat tailgating you could cause another collision up ahead. Unfortunately, his words were cut off as the master assassin managed to infect his rage into a pint-sized historian with a motor mouth.

"Kiss my ass, you bleep on bleepity bleeping bleep" Vivian's words to passerby boats were so outlandish that even Altaïr balked at her coarse language. Where had she even learned such words? She shook one fist at a small boat that thought they were made of big stuff to strut down the current without offering a spot for their little canoe. The people that had leaned against the side of the boat no longer peered at their wooden canoe with mirth and she added in for safe measure, "And go blankety bleep, you bleephead!"

Like her mother once told her: 'It wasn't the size of the dog that mattered, but the fight in it'. Vivian could certainly be small but she'd run into a brick wall repeatedly until one brick gave way because she was no quitter. Malik stared with blatant disbelief to what she'd just done and almost fell out of the boat when Altaïr smiled (yes, _smiled_!) to compliment, "That's my badger!"

Vivian grinned proudly for earning her first public compliment and tried to high five him but failed since he'd no idea what it was. Instead, her arm hung in midair as the high five failed to land on the boggled assassin and her victory was short-lived. She lowered her right hand to lightly pat the back of his shoulder and sighed with humorous lament, "We'll retry that later, it's all good."

Malik would be the first in history person to get profanity sickness on a boat as the two became a united front against gawkers.

Xxx

After finding a rental spot for their canoe at a nicer (more homely) inn than the others on the adjacent shore, the trio piled into their rented room after a long day of rowing. They had finally finished their entire Nile journey and after yelling their way across Lake Victoria, were immensely relieved to grab their bags to continue their journey for a temporary stay at the lake. Vivian placed her packs on the stone floor of the decently sized room to smile perkily at her comrades, "Could you imagine if we'd started at the end of the Nile? We would've been the first foreign people to journey its entire length . . . probably."

She shuffled deeper into the room that was made entirely of stone but unlike Giza's or Cairo's that had been furnished, their room held little furniture. There was a table for eating and for double usage as a desk while two wooden chairs were tucked underneath the table. There was a stone table contraption off to the left that appeared like a giant limestone brick and left her scratching her head as to what it could be. On the floor, there were reed and dry grass mats ready to be used as bedrolls during their stays but she would've preferred a hay filled mattress. It didn't look overly cheerful to Vivian but she tried to keep the mood zesty when she found a small object in the far corner and grinned, "Look, we have a little stool of our own!"

"How can you still talk after all those words out there? You were so innocent once" Malik sighed with dismay to the young woman that had shifted into a capable persona since journeying with them. Vivian merely smiled innocently since she could never bear disappointing her big brother figure but Altaïr stirred emotions that made her soar like an eagle. They weren't the platonic type of feelings that Malik earned in her heart and Vivian treaded carefully around the friendship line with Altaïr. She wasn't there to poke the time-space continuum out of existence because of an innocent attraction that seemed to be flourishing and would keep herself restrained emotionally. The dai turned to the assassin in question as Altaïr chucked his belongings onto the strange stone slab and Malik declared with a lecturing finger, "Now, you're like _him_."

Altaïr merely smirked since Vivian was bearable now that she'd worn him down to her level and replied with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, "It's not so bad."

"You're constantly shrouded in danger and arguments" Malik pointed out when he caught an admirable smile from Vivian because Altaïr would not be leading her anywhere safe with his shenanigans. When had she begun smiling at the assassin? Weren't the two usually pointing frowns at each other until the biggest one won? She had turned from a small lamb to a curious moth but Altaïr was the bright enticing fire ready to scorch her into burnt ashes. He stepped between the two to cut off whatever knowing look they were sharing and stepped into his big brother role as he insisted firmly to his friend, "She's meant to stay an innocent lamb."

"I eat lambs" Altaïr stated bluntly because she was no longer the nervous little woman that had trailed behind them in apprehension. She could hold her own in defense and didn't irritate him as often as she used to so Vivian was deemed acceptable as a friend for him. Vivian shook her head since the man had an insatiable appetite for food and wasn't as finicky with it as he was with his clothing. He sidestepped past Malik with a haughty expression and placed a hand on top of her head as she blinked comically to the physical contact. Hmm, it seemed she would have to work her way from being patted like a loyal hound to a pat on the back like a human being. To Altaïr, it was the safest move to avoid any cheeky jokes since he was terrible at flirting banter to put her in her place and declared, "You have shown that you've upgraded from such a feeble- and delectable- animal. Therefore, you are now . . . a goat."

"A goat?" both Malik and Vivian asked in stunned confusion to his odd ranking.

Altaïr shrugged his shoulders since it was decent enough for her and pointed out, "You might have the rage of a badger but you don't have the physical attributes."

"If this is your way of getting me to paint myself like a badger, forget it" she stated flatly because a goat was not cuter than a lamb nor did they hold any spectacular strength to bask in. They were cute, true, but she didn't have large chocolate eyes or the droopy ears that flicked. Altaïr had a terrible sense in picking names and she decided to subtly retaliate by grinning enthusiastically, "Although, I would look a little more badass-"

"You're not painting yourself" both men ordered to blow out that idea from her mind and she pouted since she always liked turian clan markings in Mass Effect. Curse those smexy aliens and their subvocal voices! Why couldn't she strut around the world like a tough battle-painted Nord from the Elder Scroll series?

Vivian snapped her fingers to feign disillusion to her thwarted plan and muttered, "Crab apples!"

Her shoulders squared as another thought popped into mind and she eyed Altaïr skeptically to demand swiftly, "Wait, did you just call me a goat in looks? They might be cute when they bray but I do _not_ look like one. . . do I?"

Altaïr decided to forgo torturing her this time and yanked the stool from her hands so she could continue unpacking her belongings. Otherwise, she'd be searching for a reflective surface to double-check that she hadn't begun to resemble livestock and he would be tempted to place a bell around her neck. Since there were only two chairs next to the table, he placed the stool between them and smirked at Vivian with emphasis that she'd be sitting on it. She flicked him off with her middle finger for the first time since meeting and scurried off to unpack her sleeping blankets while leaving behind a bewildered assassin. What in blazes did that mean? He was ready to poke her like fresh clay until she told him what that finger signal meant but Malik shook his head to stop him. Apparently, he'd had a small 'Vivian' moment and Altaïr would not be treading anywhere near her personality traits. The world could only handle _one_ Vivian walking the earth.

"Let's all make our beds and go to sleep, I am tired" Altaïr stated simply since he'd been rowing without stop since they left their camp in the morning and it was now the late afternoon. Lake Victoria had not been easy to row across its length and he wanted to rest his arms if he was to start investigating by the early morning. Vivian pulled out her blankets in agreement since she'd only felt thirsty after yelling so much and Altaïr muffled a snort when she fell over onto her back. Honestly, her packs were fat enough to burst after everything she collected from their travels. Malik sat down on one of the wooden chairs to pull open his pack by its drawstring since he had a knack for a snack and dug through the leather pack for some dry cheese to gnaw on.

Like a mouse on a hunt, Vivian's nose rose as she heard chewing and a delectably familiar smell but Altaïr forced her head back down to focus on fixing her bed. The woman ate just about anything at all hours and he was not about to have supper when he only wanted to sleep. She assembled her linen blankets and one of wool over her simple bedroll but she halted when thunder erupted above them. Altaïr jumped in effect to the sharp noise that rang in his ears and seconds later, the sound of raindrops splattered over the wooden roof. He clenched his fists since he'd been waiting to collect rainwater for refilling his backup canteen since last night and grumbled exasperatedly, "Oh, _now_ it pours? Honestly!"

"Did you just jump?" Malik asked with an amused smirk that caused the other man to frown since thunderstorms apparently made Altaïr uncomfortable. The assassin didn't say it aloud but every time the heavens crashed with loud noise, he sprung into his tent to wait it out with the speed of lightning. Vivian found it humorous since the assassin was as human as she was and his flaws pertained to nature since he could not control them, no matter how much his glower power affected others.

"Didn't our elders teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" he chastised swiftly as he quickly began ripping out his bed sheets to fling them onto the wicker mat. Vivian sighed under her breath to the poor treatment of the only objects that kept him healthy during the night and knew that if Pixar made a movie through the mindset of those sheets, they'd be plotting a diabolical assassination.

Malik resisted the urge to kick the footstool in Altaïr's direction because the angle was perfect for a lower back strike. Rather than risk a raging eagle chasing him down the inn and possibly being kicked out by the owner, he stayed his hand. After all, tomorrow was another day. Vivian pulled up the wooden latch to open the single window to catch a view of the large blue lake and smiled at the cool air flowing in. It was a fresh unpolluted breeze that tingled her damp scalp and she breathed in deeply as the surrounding background of the forested area provided a relaxing ambience.

"Well, at least the rain will give us a cool night" Vivian commented happily with optimism and leaned against the windowsill since she was too short to peer out with her torso. Resting her hands on the smooth stone, she watched the wind rustle the leaves of every tree towards the east and the stillness of the land told her they would be in for a stormy night. She couldn't hear any wildlife and since they'd chosen the farthest inn from the busy trade posts and people scarcely walked by. Her eyes widened when a flash of light touched the land in the distance in the form of a thin line- lightning! She'd never witnessed lighting since the cloud cover over Berkeley kept it from being seen from her home but thunder was always heard. A second later, the natural companion followed with another rumbling ruckus that caused Altaïr's shoulders to tense and she declared gleefully, "I just saw lighting over the hills to the east! Isn't that exciting?!"

"No, you'll probably draw it closer with your enthusiasm" Altaïr grumbled sourly since thunder made his skin crawl uncertainly and felt the need to dive underneath his covers for shelter. Vivian shot him a small glare over her shoulder since the moment was a first for her but Altaïr was grumpier than a cat soaked in water. He ordered her to shut the window before cold drafts were allowed inside and she obeyed since disobeying would earn her a lecture. When Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad lectured you, it was worse than physical torture since it lasted over an hour and he chewed into you without remorse. Not to mention, when he started quoting scripture from the Brotherhood's tenets . . . you were in for a _lo-o-o-o-o-o-ng_ ride.

Vivian sat on the floor to pat down any lumps in her bedding to prevent any back aches since the Middle Ages provided plenty of them. However, she did love the clucking of hens and chickens whenever she awoke as they substituted song birds nicely. She lay on top of her makeshift bed, kicking off her leather shoes, and curled herself up in a fetal position become comfortable. After a year of travel, she'd become accustomed to plopping down in her clothes to fall asleep instantly and still wore them the following day. Boy, did she miss having a simple washing machine and decent fabric softener.

To Altaïr, she resembled a dozing dog but he'd become accustomed (and almost immune) to her odd way of sleeping. There were no beds for them this time, except for a wicker mat on the stone floor, and Altaïr could already see it would be an uncomfortable sleep. His blankets weren't plush at all and his bedroll would be the only thing providing cushioning to his bones. Hmm, should he have risked danger by choosing one of the other cozier inns closer to the trading posts? No, his two companions would've literally dragged and kicked him across the lake for even daring it.

Malik decided to make his bed since the sunlight lingering in the sky from sunset would soon disappear. He could read a book by lighting a wax candle that lay half-melted on the wooden table but his friends were ready for sleep. He didn't need much to be comfortable, unlike Altaïr, and arranged his blankets neatly around the wicker mat and his bedroll. Altaïr narrowed his eyes incredulously when the dai tucked the ends of his blankets around both items since his personal way of sleeping was simply rolling into them and stuffing the ends under his feet. Malik caught his bewildered gaze since he took his time with everything he did and pointed out simply, "I believe in propriety, Altaïr, even away from home."

The assassin punched his pillow for emphasis that he could care less since he took priority over the decency of his sleeping environment than bedding arrangements. He didn't want to sleep over a filthy wicker mat after taking squeaky clean care of his fabrics but would have to risk it as he nodded approvingly to his makeshift bed. To Malik, he'd never seen a more awful bed in his life as the blankets simply lay atop one another in a random disorganized order rather from slimmest to thickest. Altaïr caught Malik's deadpan expression to his bed this time and the assassin defended snippily, "I'm not a maid nor do I care."

"You should when you marry and your wife realizes you're a slob of epic proportions" the dai replied matter-of-factly since his manners were impeccable in public and in private while Altaïr was the same inside and out. Altaïr decided to indulge his inner child (maybe his inner Vivian if he dared to think so) and leaned over to pull out the bottom left corner of Malik's blankets. The dai slapped his hand away swiftly for daring to transfer his messy behavior over to his side of the room and chastised him, "You keep your contagious hands to yourself!"

Malik proceeded to fix what the man ruined quickly but kept strict vigilance in case he decided to pull out another area from his mats. Altaïr conceded the battle since he was the early riser out of both and he could always take advantage by either pulling out all of the blankets or tying the ends in knots underneath the mats to trap him. Either way, it would bring a littler irritancy into the dai's life and Altaïr felt rather mischievous that day. He looked to the other mischief maker of the team since Vivian was the only one that was actually in bed and asked curiously, "How is it?"

"Not bad . . . I . . . I can't feel my shoulder" she answered earnestly with a disappointed pout but shifted to lie on her back once her joint began to sting. He snorted to her previous words of compliment about the small room and Vivian bit her bottom lip when her shoulder began to ache from its previous position over the stone floor. She huddled deeper into her blankets until they touched her nose to resemble a gopher and she mumbled miserably as she looked to him for help, "These beds are really bad- not lumpy hay bad but _limestone_ bad. Where's a Mary Sue with an anachronistic name and neon purple hair so I can pulverize her into a meat bag and use her as a mattress?"

Altaïr scoffed as he sat down on his bed to test her opinion and groaned painfully when his tailbone struck the tough flooring. Well, Vivian hadn't lied. He recoiled from the pain shooting up his tailbone and glared at Malik when the dai snorted to his impetuousness rather than being careful. The master assassin resisted from grasping his throbbing tailbone but glared at the floor as the annoying culprit as he protested, "The bare earth is softer than this!"

"Given this is all we can afford- make the best of it" Malik replied flatly since he could fall asleep just about anywhere, even while standing if he was really exhausted. After adjusting his blankets to support the bends of his spine, he was perfectly fine laying down for bed while his two companions were rubbing their poor vertebrae. He wasn't finicky over his arrangements and had become used to sleeping on the bare ground during assassination missions while Altaïr always gathered better accommodations, either by nature itself or stealing sleep inside a private barn.

Altaïr crossed his arms as he sat straight in his spot and declared snippily, "I most certainly will not-"

"Please don't go downstairs to argue because you'll blow your scholar ruse" Vivian dissuaded with a soft whimper because dragging him away from a quarrel and leaving the inn was not desirable at all. Why couldn't he have Ezio's natural charisma to play his cards right? Instead, Altaïr either threatened to skin you or unleashed his glower power to crush you into submission. Most of the time, she watched with admirable awe from the sidelines but she _really_ wanted to have a roof over her head that night.

"I agree, keep your mouth shut for all our sakes because we finally have a decent roof over our heads" Malik agreed from his corner closest to the strange stone block that the dai was pretty sure was either a table or bed of some kind. A hard floor was nothing to be concerned about when there were worst things in the world (like being one of those poor slaves across the lake) and would focus on the brighter aspect of life.

Altaïr grumbled in his spot because he wasn't getting the decent lodging he imagined and muttered curtly, "Even a scholar would be maddened by this floor."

"I think a scholar would reflect on his current situation and learn from it" Vivian piped up since her historic knack was analyzing everything she encountered in the new historic land. Her logical modern-day side was sobbing into a little curled ball for the shoddy living conditions in bedding alone but this was a learning experience in itself. She curled into a smaller ball as she laid on her left side with the hope that movement would help ease her into sleep. Oh, who was she kidding, her body would feel like it had been hit by a bus come tomorrow morning.

Altaïr hissed to her optimism because he sought agreement with his opinion and shooed her to sleep with a wave of his hand, "You know nothing, little badger."

"And yet, _I'm_ not complaining" she smiled innocently from her spot because where logic was concerned, _she_ should've been the one nagging about the room. Altaïr narrowed his eyes to her comment because he liked reigning supreme over Vivian to maintain his indomitable aura but it seemed she was more resilient. He wouldn't have that because _she_ admired him, not the other way around, and decided to bear the horrible flooring. She yawned softly into her hands to head to sleep and he watched one green eye poke out from between her bundle of blankets as she murmured, "Good night, eagle boy- ouch!"

She rolled onto her back immediately after hearing her shoulder joint pop against the stone floor and whimpered, "How do they keep customers if they leave with shattered bones?"

Altaïr watched the lump known as Vivian whimper underneath the messy blankets and restrained from poking her to ire her one last time. If he accidentally poked something feminine on her body, he'd never hear the end of it or worse- have to bare his derrière as promised. As the days passed, he sought her company more than he had during their first months together and deemed her adequate to have as an admirer- platonically, of course. He would _never_ focus on the fact that her physical features were agreeable and her cheerful demeanor kept the loneliness at bay. He decided to tease her in the verbal form (for extra safety to his dignity) as she fiddled inside her bedding and smirked to utter with a spooky tone, "Maybe . . . they don't leave at all."

Vivian chuckled to his attempt to frighten her, her black mop of hair peeking out of the covers as one emerald eye joined it, and scoffed, "With two badass assassins by my side, I'd feel bad for them if they dared to try."

Altaïr found himself surprised when a low chuckle threatened to escape his throat for the very first time and swallowed it instantly. He covered his slip by faking a short cough and placed a hand over her head to push her back underneath her covers to end the conversation. The sound that had dared to make its way up his larynx was not familiar to him and left him with more questions than answers.

What had just happened? Why had he allowed letting it surface? Most importantly, why was Vivian the one that kept luring it out of him?

* * *

Altaïr's mind hadn't relinquished the desire for soft bedding throughout the night and he'd wriggled in his sleep like a caterpillar until he bumped into a soft mass. Over the hours, he huddled against the mystery lump of plushness until he barely felt the twinge of pain from the hard floor as he slept on. The assassin was on cloud nine while the lump noticed throughout their deep sleep that something was wrong with their natural pressure. Being smothered by a heavy beast was not what they sought in their sleep so the huddled lump decided in its subconscious that enough was enough.

An hour before the crack of dawn, Vivian jolted awake when she could no longer bear the painful weight that had pulled her from sleep. She realized that she wasn't sinking in imaginary mud but she might as well be in reality. On her stomach, her right arm was uncomfortably wedged between her bosom and the floor while her shoulder blades ached from the weight of one mighty snoring bear- aka Mr. Parkour himself. Apparently, he'd managed to roll himself onto her to substitute her as his new sleeping mat and she couldn't believe the lousy beginning to her day. Forget the handsome assassin on her back, her poor limbs were aching with every inhale of his mouth as he flattened her like a crepe. She would not be Rigby!

"No way, man, I will not be the crappy sidekick that gets the bad end of the stick" she groaned miserably and tried to shrug him off but the man was heavier than anticipated. Curse those well-sculpted muscles that eluded the eyes of many! She decided to take the road less traveled and pinched the end of his nose to jerk him awake since pushing him off was out of the question.

He coughed as his airway was sealed off and awoke to find a wriggling historian underneath his frame. How had he- oh, now the plush lump of softness made sense. He'd almost flattened Vivian into a flat cake. . .hmm, he didn't know whether that was necessarily a bad thing. It was a bit embarrassing to know he'd used her as a bedroll but turned even more mortifying when she leaned back against him to escape. Years from now, he would wish that particular event never happened and could only pray that the unknown Desmond never saw it.

Vivian's hand tried to push him away as she wriggled underneath him for freedom but while he tried to contain her frantic movements, her hand wandered into personal assassin territory down below. His eyes widened in shock where her hand landed because he did not wear his layered robes or armor to bed and she yelped with mortification, "_Ah!_ I touched something! I touched _something_!"

She channeled her inner Superman and yanked herself out of that tight spot after accidentally feeling . . . well, she was glad her lady parts didn't hang. Her entire face was red to match a cherry as the lingering sleep was knocked aside and she refused to look at Altaïr, hyperventilating the embarrassing ordeal. Great, she'd just gone where no AC fan had gone before and where Maria managed to in Acre. This was _not_ how she wanted her day to start and had lived better believing he had the anatomy of a Ken doll! She felt blood rushing to her face since this was one experience she hadn't counted on and snapped quietly, "This is what happens when you use people as beds, hands land on your hidden blade and it was entirely accidental. I did not fondle you . . . willingly."

He was ready to shoot a retort about being sullied but realized that yes, he had been the one to crush her during sleep. Was it really too much to ask for a decent bed in an inn of all places? Nobody could sleep on stone! As for the latter part . . . ugh, it was embarrassing enough. Was it too late to wear armor to bed? He raised a hand to show everything would be fine and there didn't need to be a fuss about it. It was a simple honest mistake and he'd done the same unwillingly when he'd entered her tent weeks ago. Although, that sudden touch. . ._no!_ A million times no! This was Vivian!

He raised his hands to calm her down and stated quietly to avoid waking Malik, "It's all right. Go back to your bed and we'll sleep for the rest of the time."

"You won't roll over and crush me again?" she asked tentatively as she massaged her sore shoulder and slowly crept back to her ruffled blankets. She didn't want to reenact the same event hours from now and eyed him suspiciously.

"I'll try my best not to" he replied tiredly and slumped back onto his awful bedding after enduring a lousy sleep. If he'd slept over Vivian for hours, he could only imagine how many aches she already had because she was lighter and smaller than him.

"Good or I _will_ have to kick you there" she insinuated innocently as she eyeballed the exact area she'd accidentally grazed and curled into her fetal position. The tips of her ears reddened because she didn't want to look or know about that vicinity of his person for the rest of her days. Thankfully, the hard stone floor took away her attention as she tried to make herself comfortable and muttered irritably, "Jeez, how do people sleep on this?"

"Easy, you use others as pillows" he replied sarcastically because his own did absolutely nothing to help and she nudged his ribs playfully with her elbow. She found the soft spot between two ribs and he batted her hand away with an empty threat, "Don't make me crush you into paste."

"But I'm small and insignificant, like a ladybug" she smirked mischievously with an innocent voice because her current sleeping pose made her half his size. He sighed under his breath because he would never hurt her and hated that she knew it. She was weaving herself under his skin like said bug but it wasn't for the worst.

Altaïr sighed under his breath since the woman could trade endless quips with him and wasn't ready to start this early in the morning. If anything, he wanted to clear his mind from what had just occurred in personal territory and muttered, "Let's salvage what sleep we can."

"I hate to say this but we might need to imitate badgers" she muttered despondently with a pout and stretched fully onto her back when the bedding hurt her shoulder. How did other visitors bear the stone floor? The wicker mats did absolutely nothing for her! She groaned pitifully to the pain settling into her joints since Altaïr had crushed her into a pancake for several hours and mumbled, "How is Malik bearing this?"

"He can sleep through a snowstorm" he replied flatly since his friend was known to sleep through rough storms that could tear roofs off. Currently, the dai was snoring away blissfully as he slept on his back while the other two suffered sleep deprivation and muscle pain. His brain required sleep for making plans and since Vivian normally carried more energy than he did, he decided to concede to her. Rubbing his tired eyes with the backs of his hands, he yawned softly and sluggishly asked about her idea, "What's your plan?"

"You use both pillows over the bed, sleep on your stomach and I'll sleep on top next to your side" she explained confidently since she'd partaken in enough slumber parties with her sister in their living room to sleep comfortably. The stone floor was horrible to lie on but if they piled their bedrolls, the wicker mats, half of their blankets, and pillows- it could work. She handed him the items so they could get a move on and fought back a yawn as she wiped one watery eye, "Don't tell me to go first, I don't have a flat chest and you'll crush me- not to mention, private goods will be exposed for touching."

He didn't listen after that to avoid blushing for the second time in years and moved their pillows over the bedrolls and placed his blanket on top. He lay down on top of everything to test the comfort level and Vivian watched him mold himself against the bed. He reminded her of a caterpillar as he made precise grooves to accommodate his body shape and she joked impishly, "This would make for a perfect spanking joke."

"Don't make me spank _you_" he shot back to silence her but groaned at the double entendre and punched his pillow for the mistake. Vivian merely eyed him with amusement in her eyes as a perfect joke lied inside those emerald pools and he nagged her, "Don't answer that. I acknowledge that I fell right into that one."

When she plopped down to drape herself over his backside, she used half of her body to prevent suffocating the man. His body heat and her blanket from above were enough to keep her cozy, and in return, the assassin. Her head rested on the curve of his shoulder blade, her hands grasping his shoulders to keep a cozy hold as she curled her legs against his side.

She feigned a blissful sigh of awe as she settled her cheek over his right shoulder blade and felt a familiar lub-dub under her fingertips over the left. Altaïr's smooth face of rare peaceful relaxation broke into a grumpy frown when she whispered sweetly, "I can feel your heartbeat. I am one with you, valiant assassin."

He was ready to chastise her words because he never allowed anyone as close as she was unless it was dire (and stone flooring was). She was right about the breach since nobody had ever spoken about hearing his heartbeat but Vivian quieted herself this time with a low chuckle, "I just wanted one last jab since we're stuck in this position."

"One day, Vivian, you will have your own frustrating admirer" Altaïr sighed under his breath with misery to his early day and wondered if he could chuck her at Malik. Nobody said he couldn't rob everything for himself and leave her hissing in rage. She snorted to the humorous idea since her bookworm self was enough to ward off men but she'd love to have a little minion create mayhem with her. Hmm, she could even name them Cheeseburger in tribute to the food she longed for the most. Well, that, or Lasagna- they were both pretty damn good.

"This is pretty nice" she replied as she resembled a ferret curled up against the assassin and snuggled against him with glee. Oh, if only she could break herself into millions of microscopic pieces and allow fans to switch into each mini Vivian to bask in the same warmth. He groaned woefully underneath her curled frame and she chided with a cheeky smile, "Don't make me spank you because rest assured, I will grope this time. My inner 16-year-old fangirl will give me a high five for venturing further into assassin territory."

"Vivian, you're banned from talking" he snapped swiftly to the idea since his layers of clothing were only one for sleeping and Vivian was bold enough. Frankly, he was surprised the mischievous imp hadn't attempted to do so before but she held physical restraint due to his upbringing. He . . . wasn't as repulsed as he should've been when he thought about it. Ugh, maybe he was becoming delirious after endless travel and hours baking in the sun.

* * *

**A/N**: It seems Mama Maria longs for female companionship and Vivian would love to babysit little Darim while she heads off to kick Templars' asses. Aside from that, our favorite trio is in Lake Victoria and we can see their stay will not be overly cheerful as it had been in Egypt. Altaïr and Vivian are slowly realizing that their new behavior is not the type designed for platonic friends but Altaïr, being a late bloomer, will be the last to realize it. Malik can clearly see it developing while Vivian tries to block her own attraction while Altaïr, well, they'll be in Mozambique by the time he does. Lol

Thank you for the numerous reviews for the last chapter, I hopped in glee!

_AutumnKrystal_: I'm glad you'd love to reread this story again when it's finished, which shouldn't be anytime soon. Lol. The relationship of Vivian and Altaïr definitely brings a dose of physical pain from the laughter they stir with their antics and Malik displays our emotions to what we think when we see the two. He's our poor window into their world despite Vivian being the time traveler. Lol

_Daphii_: I hope my odd rendition of their travels match the history in Ancient Africa since it's such a huge continent with rich history. I love that my readers can relate to my stories, whether by Vivian's character or the trio's travels.

_NoNeedToAsk_: We all love updates. I hop with glee when my alerts for other stories pop into my inbox. Lol

_WhatTheCensoredXD_: It's no problem, I'm glad you liked all of the chapters as we begin delving into some premature Vivian/Altaïr romance. She is quite the little scamp with her good-natured jokes but he'll end up loving that crazy badger like nobody else.

_Hollownature_: Oh, don't worry, they'll be plenty of material for Malik to use as they continue traveling. He'll definitely be chaperoning the two, mostly Altaïr, to keep the two from being alone together. Vivian will be greatly reluctant to even acknowledge Altaïr's feelings out of fear of tearing him off his 'destined' path since he needs baby Sef to be born to keep everything balanced. It will be one of their obstacles throughout the story in later chapters.

_Haniipop_: I live to make people laugh with this story so I hope you enjoyed all of the chapters leading up to this one.

_KrnYong_: Yes, our cranky Altaïr has begun changing for a more emotionally balanced and dare I say, a little mischievous. The two will definitely become awkward with each chapter but we'll also see how Altaïr's determination for the POE can stress his relationships. I noticed it in Revelations with Maria and Darim so I want to use that with Vivian when he begins pulling away from her after developing a trusting friendship over the year.

_Polinka123_: I loved the 'no need to kick her anymore' line and thank you for the information about tomatoes, I fixed the mistake. I twisted the 'proportional' from your review into adequate as Altaïr described the close friendship he developed with Vivian but he's not going to delve further. Lol

_Hanane EL Mokkadem_: Thank you!

_xVentressx_: I hope this one didn't kill you since the two had quite the hilarious moments.

_Anonomon_: Thank you, I'm always ecstatic to see the 'best AC fanfic ever' in humor from my readers.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: Haha, Altaïr might have the show but Malik won't sit by as the sidekick since he does have his own dominant attributes to contribute. I'd like to think that his team will grow enough to be leaders in their own right since Malik did end up overlooking the order when Altaïr headed off to Asia. I'm glad you asked about Malik's reaction to their developing relationship because Vivian will be asking him to dissuade Altaïr's feelings by stressing his child and Maria back at Masyaf. Vivian won't be a Sue that will happily jump into bed with him because she respects Maria and wants Darim to have a complete family. Also, the fact that she could be tinkering with the past frightens her so Altaïr will grow incredibly frustrated by the brother bear known as Malik. lol

_Sachikothepeacock_: Thanks for already shipping the two, I've never been the type for making fast romances since it's not believable with Altaïr's background. Now that we're 30+ chapters in, it will.

_Kismahaz_: Has it really been two years? My goodness, it has! Thank you for following the story loyally for so long, I appreciate my original readers that stuck on since the start. Hearing that the characters are perfectly canon and balanced is always delightful, along with everyone's acceptance of our quirky Vivian.

_RandomCitizen_: They'll be hearing numerous stories along the way and while Malik enjoys them, Altaïr will always be skeptical critic trying to poke holes at logic. The next chapter will show it. Lol

* * *

**Next Time**: _The Badger and The Eagle_

She ignored his grumpy antics completely since he withered in the sun like a vampire sometimes and smiled perkily, "Gather close for Vivian's story time."

Malik chuckled but Altaïr groaned miserably to another farfetched story, leading her to swat him on the knee. She grinned widely with a clap of her hands as she spun her tale with a dramatic voice, "Legends tell of a legendary warrior, whose assassin skills were the stuff of _legends! _Ezio traveled the land in search of worthy foes to free oppressed people. One day, he journeyed to a small inn to eat a humble meal but found it overrun with evildoers- dozens of them as their evil shrouded the place in darkness! They threatened him with a painful death but the warrior said nothing. . .for his mouth was full."

Altaïr sighed to the dramatic pause in her tale as she raised her hand to shush him and she continued, "But then he swallowed and spoke, 'Enough talk, let's fight' and shakaboey- he was off like lightning striking the earth. He was so deadly and fast that enemies would go blind from overexposure to his pure awesomeness."

The master assassin was incredibly skeptical at that point about his descendant and Vivian grinned with admiration, "The evil Templars scattered and the bullied people rejoiced, praising his skills as well as possible repayment but he said, 'There's no charge for awesomeness . . . or attractiveness'. It mattered not how many foes he faced, they were no match for his bodacity. Never before had an Italian assassin been so feared and so loved. Even the most heroic heroes of the Brotherhood bowed to him as master. The great La Volpe stood by his side and courteously invited him, 'We should hang out' and Ezio valiantly replied, 'Agreed'. But hanging out would have to wait because when you're facing the ten thousand Templars of Demon Mountain-"

"There's no such mountain!" Altaïr objected incredulously to the horrible name for a piece of land and she sighed exasperatedly. Was there any story that he wouldn't try poking holes into?

"You're a negative Nancy with story time, eat your vegetables" Vivian ordered with a firm tone since he never hesitated to bite into her stories for inaccuracies. The assassin glared at her for being brushed aside like a little moth and she continued with a dramatic voice, "And so-"

The assassin arched an eyebrow and challenged smugly, "Show me the mountain."

"It's in the land of Po Panda" she shot back indignantly since she'd no idea how much geography he knew of China and wasn't about to have her film parody ruined.

* * *

_Thank you for reading and I'll see you all next time with more humor from the trio. Please review if you can, I love reading your thoughts on the bodacious trio. :)_


	33. The Badger & The Eagle

**Music Inspiration: **John Lunn- _"An Ideal Marriage"  
_

* * *

**The Badger and the Eagle**

* * *

After a quiet morning that allowed Altaïr to snooze a while longer while Malik headed downstairs, the two companions snuggled like bunnies to regain lost hours. Vivian and Altaïr were incredibly sore after their lousy sleep while Malik merely stretched to get the knots out of his muscles. He pitied his companions since they slept in the worst positions possible (couldn't they sleep on their backs?) and had kept from laughing aloud when he found them curled up like squirrels on their bed mats. Since the two hadn't appeared to be doing anything lecherous, he allowed them to sleep without interruption since they had rowed without stop until reaching the lake.

Thankfully, the inn had a decent public bath for use but his habits of being an early riser gave him the advantage of cleaning up in peace. He always found it surprising how much dust a person gathered when they were simply sitting in a boat and doing absolutely nothing. When he returned to their small bedroom, he decided to wake the two as Vivian tried to shrink against Altaïr's larger frame with a sleepy whimper. The assassin reacted in the same manner by hugging his pillows closer and inadvertently smothered Vivian as he shifted towards the mat.

Malik merely watched them shift with the similarity of two little piglets in the mud and although they looked comfortable in their makeshift bed, it was time to begin their mission. He doubted he'd be able to pull them away from their warm beds by pointing out their jobs for the day and took a different route to rouse them. As Vivian curled her legs towards her stomach to snuggle up to the assassin, Malik pointed out with a hint of amusement, "Vivian, your head is right underneath his armpit."

And just like that, she lost her sleepiness.

* * *

After his companions awoke to bicker about bathing dibs, Malik ordered Vivian to head in first due to her gender since they were hiding it for her protection. She'd jabbed her first dibs at Altaïr with glee, adding a little happy jig with her feet until he threatened to chase her out. Malik didn't intervene as the past year had turned him from unofficial bodyguard to a normal person as Altaïr failed to harm Vivian in any form. The two had become very good friends to a point that Malik wondered if anything else lied underneath their close friendship. Altaïr wasn't the type to be open with the opposite gender and the lack of continuous exposure to them tended to make that possibility smaller. He couldn't decipher anything but friendship from his friend so far but when he observed Vivian closely, he noticed little covert looks and reddening ears from the historian.

For the moment, however, he would say nothing about it since it wasn't his business to pry into the affairs of his friends. He wasn't going to poke the fire with something that could be false and inadvertently cause awkwardness between the two. It didn't take very long for him to fix his bed while his two friends ate in their room rather than downstairs to avoid mingling with locals. Malik's 'romance' sense tingled when Altaïr attempted to swipe morsels of her food, leading her to whimper about lost nutrients possible for her petite frame, and he offered his own plate. This, in turn, led her to mumble sheepishly that six foot tall assassins needed decent calories too for saving the world. The dai had been accustomed to seeing their playful joking but touching or grazing forearms had been lacking until that very moment. When Altaïr teased that little badgers needed food to power their rage, the light but quick graze to his forearm by her hand made the dai wonder about the two. The fact that his friend didn't chastise her immediately or jump away only spearheaded further questions. Despite the gloomy outlook of the society around them, Lake Victoria was quite picturesque scenery for lovers looking for romantic seclusion- not that he would tell them that. Needless to say, he was more than happy when he pushed those thoughts away to return to the task at hand after their breakfast.

"So, how are we going to divide this land for exploration?" Vivian piped up with excitement to begin their mission and couldn't wait to explore as she had in Egypt. True, Lake Victoria didn't hold ancient architecture that had withstood centuries but there was untouched natural beauty on the land. She was more than happy to pull out the map Malik had made as he created a map of the general area wherever they traveled while adding each new place to a larger separate map. Vivian always admired his delicate artwork as he carefully stroked each line over parchment to make a perfect line every time.

Altaïr held down the opened map with two books so they could use their hands for strategic planning as he eyed each drawn area. Malik had yet to fill in what each little store consisted of but since they'd just arrived yesterday, he'd sketched the land fast. The dai would sketch and jot down important features of the lake on today's outing to construct a more detailed map since they couldn't walk around blindly.

"We will explore while you keep a lookout at this location and signal us if anyone gets close" Altaïr stated and her look deflated as she was placed on guard duty on their side of the lake. He decided to begin with the area closest to their inn before venturing closer to the west where the slave auctions were held, along with the majority of the crowds. This area wasn't like Egypt where she could walk around on her own and worried for her safety as he stated, "You're a woman so you can't exactly walk around without a man in tow."

"I could _play_ a man" she suggested impishly and was surprised when he chuckled softly, wondering what he found so amusing that he needed to actually _laugh_. The man never laughed around her since his chuckles were quite low to match with his tone of speaking. When he found something amusing, he uttered a mere 'heh' or 'hmm' rather than her amused laughter that often resembled diabolical 'ha-ha's. What had she said to cause such a new phenomenon? It was almost big enough of a change to go into her journal!

"Your height would barely fit a teenage boy, much less a man" he pointed out with mirth and patted the top of her head for emphasis to their height difference. Well, not everyone could be six feet in height. Her eyes narrowed for the little jab since she could always find ways to make herself taller or crazy enough to ward away people from seeing her true gender. Altaïr really didn't want her treading anywhere dangerous without him and tried to make light of his true feelings by stating smugly, "Remember to have a snack ready in a few hours."

Vivian had half a mind to leave her footprint on his butt for the sexist comment but she had to fit into the gender role of women for the time being. Where was Maria so she could vent about the wonders of modern day women's rights in her country? If he would've been any other man, she would have gone through with that plan but kicking an assassin never boded well for anyone's lifespan. Altaïr pulled a different map from his pocket that he'd prepared after breakfast with the help of the innkeeper and pointed out the areas of interest. He wasn't heading in blind to explore and would have Malik add the information to his own map later on.

"This is the most populated area so you and I will investigate for anything suspicious" Altaïr informed Malik since he wanted to keep Vivian away from any dangerous folk during their stay. She lacked offensive skills and was small enough to be overpowered by men since women were an extreme rarity unless they were slaves. He highly doubted her walking stick would offer protection and he wasn't confident that she could handle the halberd she'd found until at least a few more months. His plan for the day only included the two but he'd make up something ridiculously important to keep her at home and told Malik, "Afterwards, we can scope out these other three areas of the lake shore for anything suspicious."

Vivian peeked between their shoulders since she wanted to be involved in the super-secret planning but Altaïr caught her head poking in. Her green eyes were almost comical as they followed his moving hand eagerly and he put a stop to that curiosity by stating firmly, "Vivian, as much as I would like you alongside us or on your own, this place does not make me comfortable to do so. You'll be staying here or in the canoe at all times to protect our belongings."

"You're worried about me?" she sighed softly since she hoped to contribute in some small way that didn't mean snack duty but understood his concern. There were real dangers in the world that he protected her from and she'd abide by it. He didn't need to nag about safety until he was red in the face like he used to since a year had given her enough exposure of the world to trust him. Also, it felt rather heartwarming to have his concern after having the value of a flea on the beginning of their journey.

Malik's brow rose in curiosity since he could use Altaïr's answer as proof whenever he whined about her but the other man caught his look. He wasn't open with his inner emotions, not unless it was dire, and wasn't about to step into sticky gunk worthy of future blackmail. He glanced away from the two to take a sudden interest on the large map spread over the desk and restated swiftly, "No, I'm merely-"

Vivian frowned since she'd expected a kind 'of course' or a half-assed 'meh' to validate the time they'd recently spent together. Or was he trying to maintain his badass outlook by denying friendly affection? She could only compare the man to a puzzle at times like this but she wouldn't take his words to heart since he had a tendency to avoid eye contact when he lied to her. Altaïr had to decide between the lesser of two evils as she awaited an answer and declared nonchalantly, "Sure, why not?"

"I'm still deciding whether it's spit in your food worthy" she debated as she eyed him suspiciously but he balked at her threat and snapped his head to face her. Had she done that previously with his other meals? He was ready to demand whether his food had been sullied by bodily fluids but she snapped her right hand at him in the form of a claw.

He remembered that odd movement of hers from Egypt and sighed aloud to chastise, "Don't start doing that crazy crab dance."

She hadn't really been trying to imitate the crab-like alien from Futurama and attempted to prod his nose as she defended, "It's not a crab! I've been trying to imitate a turtle."

"Lady, that wasn't a turtle- maybe a drunken one" Altaïr chided smartly with a smug smirk and she narrowed her eyes to his valid point. Her antics were designed to be uniquely humorous but she'd never been awesome with imitating animals. Well, maybe a baaing lamb. However, she hadn't expected to derail into another species completely and her shoulders slumped for bringing shame to turtles everywhere.

"Are you two done having your morning spat?" Malik asked calmly to nip their morning routine in the bud since they had to cover a lot of ground. The two were playful birds with a piece of bread when they met each morning and it had only grown steadily with each day. Altaïr directed a small glare towards him for daring to add him into Vivian's madness of the morning since she was the instigator. Malik failed to say anything because his friend followed her playfulness rather than rebuffed it.

"Not yet, it brings us luck" Vivian piped up cheerfully and attempted to prod the man's nose but his dexterous swats prevented her from doing so completely. After the sixth swat, she gave up since it only wasted time and proceeded to scuff his boot with hers. She might be able to reach his head with his skyscraper height but tapping his nicely polished boots was possible. She smiled broadly to her success and peered up at the impassive man to declare chirpily, "I am the Frodo to your Aragorn."

"Never in my life have I met a more impertinent creature" Altaïr stated frankly to the dai since she could never cause a dent in him physically but he was no longer annoyed that she tried. It was never any type to cause harm but more of a distraction to keep him from mulling over grim thoughts. There were often times that he wondered how life would've been without the little scamp and although it would've been quiet, dullness would've been at an ultimate high. He moved away from the desk to roll up all of the maps and handed them to Vivian for safekeeping as he ordered with a hint of amusement, "Let's go, you deranged turtle."

She smiled to his words as she became his perky companion, rather than a chagrin, once more and reminded nonchalantly, "Badger, eagle man, I . . . am a badger."

There was absolutely no way she'd be a goat.

* * *

Vivian couldn't stay cooped up in their small bedroom for very long and rereading her journal from start to finish had left her with hours to spare. It always humored her to read the first entry about the broody and harsh assassin that wanted to leave her on the side of the road by the end of that first day. With nothing but time on her hands, she occupied herself by sketching a few images to keep her skills sharp to prevent losing them. She'd begun sketching a few with Altaïr after becoming accustomed to his face long enough to sketch each detailed contour. It wasn't easy when the man lived under his hood 24/7 but she managed to memorize his features after a few weeks.

In the end, being cooped up alone had slowly trickled in the discomfort of isolation in an unknown place. She didn't particularly enjoy being left alone without the only two people she trusted in the world and each noise that echoed into her room kept her on guard. For the first time, she created a one man act as she built a story around a baker stationed in Bavaria and used different voices in varied pitches to ward off anyone that might decide to be a lookie-loo in their room. There was nothing for her to do without her friends around and faking inhabitants in her temporary home helped keep people away.

When the two men returned, they found her reciting a song in the middle of the room, "I've studied species turian, asari, and batarian. I'm quite good at genetics- as a subset of biology- because I am an expert, which I know is a tautology. My xenoscience studies range from urban to agrarian; I am the very model of a scientist _salari-i-i-i-ian_!"

"I've studied ancient Babylonians, Incas, and Egyptians. I'm nitpicky with Akkadian and Assyrian empires- both antiquated periods of Mesopotamia- because they are the oldest of civilizations. My historic studies range from Paleozoic to Holocene Eras and from the Thule culture in the west to the Jomon period in the east. I am the very essence of a dedicated _histori-i-i-ian_!

Had she gone insane in the four hours they'd left her? Vivian had been completely engrossed in her singing that she failed to hear the men pop open the door but not the resounding footsteps. She turned around with fear and embarrassment on her face but the former left when she recognized her friends. Both men were stunned to find her singing in an empty room with her ridiculously catchy lyrics and Vivian wrung her hands in mortification for becoming enthused with her one-man acts. Malik's initial surprised turned to amusement since he'd originally expected her to heckle Altaïr for leaving her behind once they returned. Altaïr, on the other hand, wasn't surprised at all by her self-entertainment and merely headed to sit down on a chair to relax for the moment.

"How, um, how was the search?" she asked awkwardly as her voice began with a squeaky edge and cleared her throat to sound normal. Ignoring her mistake of guarding the door, she decided to forget everything that happened and handed Altaïr a pitcher of water with an empty cup so he could drink. If she fed him enough, he'd forget _all_ about it . . . she hoped.

"Not well, we can't find anything out of the ordinary so we might have to delve deeper into the forest around us" Malik informed as he grabbed a nearby towel from the table to dab his forehead. The weather was humid that day as the sun was hidden away by cloud cover and rain would undoubtedly fall later in the afternoon.

Altaïr finished drinking his fill of water and handed the empty cup to his friend so he could replenish himself as well. He stretched the joints of his ankles to rest his legs from the long walk but he wasn't finished yet, telling her quickly, "Get your things ready for a hike and a canoe ride."

Vivian hurried with the speed of a cheetah to gather her daypack and stuffed their important items inside to avoid having them stolen while away. He didn't have to wait long for her to chirpily declare she was ready to 'roll out' and ignored her future jargon to head out once more. Their search would lead them over the water as they planned to cross to the southeast side of the lake. Unfortunately, he didn't count on Vivian's giddiness to sing to carry over from their room to the open lake. He refrained from smacking his head with the soaked oar when she began a tune twenty minutes into their trip:

"_I can show you the world  
Scary, itchy, candid  
Tell me, Altaïr, now when did  
You last let your heart decide?"_

"Woman, I told you I'm not singing nor abiding to it!" he intervened swiftly with narrowed eyes since he wasn't about to spontaneously break into song but Vivian ignored him. Their stay in Lake Victoria would be the last trip spent on their little canoe so she was making the best of it. She doubted she'd be able to make the same kind of music while riding a camel since their trotting would cause her voice to hitch with every bounce in its step. They had shared numerous songs throughout their travels, especially at the Valley of the Kings, so she wouldn't be thwarted so easily.

He muffled a growl when she grasped his shoulders from behind and continued cheerfully,

"_I can open your eyes  
Take you wonder by wonder  
With every ridiculous blunder  
On this super slow canoe ride_

_A whole new world_  
_A new eccentric point of view_  
_No one to tell us no or where to go_  
_Or say we're only dreaming"_

"You're dreaming, Vivian" he disagreed to end her little musical before she gave him a headache and tried to swat her away by nudging her with his shoulder. Unfortunately, the little gnat wasn't budging from his side and he shot a glare to the laidback Malik as the man simply listened on. Altaïr swore the two were in cahoots when it came to her music since he'd joined her once, not to mention strategized a plan to trap him between them to unleash her upon him.

Vivian waved her right hand in an arch over the clean blue lake as Altaïr rowed alone and went on,

"_A whole new world  
A frightening place I never knew  
But when I'm poking you, it's crystal clear _(he growled when she poked his shoulder)  
_That now I'm in a whole new era with you  
Now I'm in an archaic world with you_

_Unbelievable sights  
Indescribable feelings  
Forever dirty and endlessly stealing  
Through an endless hot azure sky  
_

_A whole new world  
Don't you dare jump out the canoe!"_

"Woman, don't tempt me" he growled irritably as he hoped her song would finish soon while Malik found amusement with her humorous compositions. If he managed to get the dai near shallow water upon their return, he would chuck him into it for causing him this torture.

Vivian simply whacked the top of his hooded head with a gentle hand and continued, _"A hundred thousand things to see-"_

"Don't hold your breath, it'll get worse" he snorted since living in his time was not flowers and sunshine as Vivian found delight in the wilderness around them. He protected her from harm as he took her under his wing but his world could be a very cruel place despite the natural beauty. She had already experienced a few unsavory incidents but he admired her persistence to keep optimistic about the world.

_"I'm gained my gumption scar  
I've come so far  
But afraid to go back  
To where I used to be"_

"An overpopulated cesspool of people incapable of wilderness survival?" he asked dryly since his little friend knew absolutely nothing about self-sufficiency or wielding a small weapon. Every skill that she used in his world was learned through either he or Malik and it made him pity the modern world. Had technology overrun the average man to become listless and sedentary rather than alert and active? Vivian ignored his sass and continued with the end of her parodied Disney song,

"_A whole new world  
Every turn a mortifying surprise  
With new horizons to pursue  
Every moment deadpan worthy_

_I'll chase Templars anywhere_  
_There's time to spare_  
_Let me share this whole new world with you"_

"No" he stated flatly to reject the clever rhyming in her song and he growled when she swatted the back of his head in retaliation. Her attempts for alluring him to sing or accept her tunes would not succeed, no matter how much she wore him down like waves upon an icy glacier. Her personality might have been able to make him accommodating to her quirky ways but he wouldn't coddle her like Malik and make a break for a musical career. Vivian, nonetheless, ignored his refusals after growing immune to his words and sung her last lines of the crafted song.

_"A whole new world  
1193 is where we'll be  
A thrilling chase  
A frightening place  
Either way, it's made  
For you and me_

_And let's not forget to get Malik la-a-a-aid."_

"Vivian!" both men remarked since they were all happy believing nobody had reproduction parts or urges. It was bad enough for Altaïr already after accidentally seeing her half-naked in her tent and the fact that women were lacking in his life didn't make it any better. The same could be said for Vivian since she didn't need a half-naked Altaïr strutting around camp as he exercised and inadvertently cause her ovaries to implode to the image.

As each day passed and with her close proximity to the man, she tried to ignore the fact that the man that normally caused her to sigh exasperatedly to his antics made her laugh instead. He was no longer a living copy from a game but his own unique person that had slowly grown from that stoic shell to one she could call a friend. Despite of the fact her feminine hormones were targeting the testosterone filled Adonis traveling in her midst, she hoped he found her a pleasing friend too.

"Stop smiling like that" Altaïr chastised when he caught the sappy smile on her face and she glared immediately to quiet him. Their relationship wasn't perfect by any means like other friendships but it certainly didn't lack for adventure.

* * *

The trio's search over the lake and the surrounding area near the shore of the eastern side didn't yield anything of value. Malik had already planned to mark each area they visited on his map and by the scenic view the canoe provided, he would make notes of the unexplored terrain. The forest area surrounding the lake remained unexplored as the trade settlement was the main attraction and expansion into the untamed land hadn't begun. If the item could be lurking underground within the forest, they would find it before anyone else ventured into it. For now, however, the humidity had begun to lessen and the shady area provided by the clouds overheard allowed the trio to have a picnic at the lake. Vivian had happily thrown together a small meal out of their remaining provisions since Altaïr promised to buy food from the merchants the following day. With different trade ships flowing down the Nile and other adjoining rivers, she was certain there would be a variety of goods to buy.

She'd brought a thin blanket to use so insects wouldn't climb onto their plates and had served the equal portions of food with cheer. Despite the archaic times, she managed to create a normal picnic that was common for her own time frame. Altaïr would've preferred eating inside where danger would be low and insects wouldn't be flying near his food. The people of Vivian's time must have been deluded in thinking a meal in the open was safe since an arrow could've shot him dead at any moment and he'd blame Vivian when he lay dying.

"See? Isn't it better to have lunch out here?" she piped up proudly with a bright smile aimed to the cloud cover overhead as it provided decent shade. The rainstorm would undoubtedly arrive much later in the day so for now, they could eat without a worry. If she miscalculated and it did rain . . . well, there were trees a few yards away.

Altaïr batted the gathering flies that were threatening to land on his piece of scrumptious lamb and frowned to mutter flatly, "Not really."

"Breathe in the fresh air! Look at the view!" she continued jovially, ignoring him completely and bit into her leafy greens with a ravenous chew. She never tired of eating fresh vegetables during her travels and it reminded Altaïr of a rabbit chewing grass as she smiled cheerfully. Sometimes, he really did have the urge to draw her as a humorous caricature since her expressions were downright ridiculous.

"There are flies trying to dive at my food" Altaïr grumbled again with his disapproval of having an outdoor picnic because it left him vulnerable in the open. What kind of assassin took a picnic when enemies could surround him? He had half a mind to grab the picnic basket and row back to the inn to eat his meal like a normal human being.

She ignored his grumpy antics completely since he withered in the open like a vampire against the sun and smiled perkily, "Gather close for Vivian's story time."

Malik chuckled but Altaïr groaned miserably to another farfetched story, leading her to swat him on the knee. Wasn't it enough that he withstood her song torture? Life was not making it easy for him since he arrived at Lake Victoria and he bit into the marinated lamb chop with a ravenous bite. He might not like picnics or Vivian's awful foibles but he would have his stomach's fill for the day no matter what. His hasty chewing slowed for a moment when he noticed a hint of lemon and pepper, leading him to abide Vivian since she knew what he liked. Hmm, that crafty woman was beginning to know him too well.

Vivian grinned widely with a clap of her hands as she spun her tale with a dramatic voice, "Legends tell of a legendary warrior, whose assassin skills were the stuff of _legends! _Ezio traveled the land in search of worthy foes to free oppressed people. One day, he journeyed to a small inn to eat a humble meal but found it overrun with evildoers- dozens of them as their evil shrouded the place in darkness! They threatened him with a painful death but the warrior said nothing . . . for his mouth was full."

Altaïr sighed to the dramatic pause in her tale as she raised her hand to shush him and she continued, "But then he swallowed and spoke, 'Enough talk, let's fight' and shakaboey- he was off like lightning striking the earth. He was so deadly and fast that enemies would go blind from overexposure to his pure awesomeness."

The master assassin was incredibly skeptical at that point about his descendant and Vivian grinned with admiration, "The evil Templars scattered and the bullied people rejoiced, praising his mind-blowing skills as well as possible repayment but he said, 'There's no charge for awesomeness . . . or attractiveness'. It mattered not how many foes he faced- they were _no_ match for his bodacity! Never before had an Italian assassin been so feared and so loved. Even the most heroic heroes of the Brotherhood bowed to him as their mentor! The great La Volpe stood by his side and courteously invited him, 'We should hang out' and Ezio valiantly replied, 'Agreed'. But hanging out would have to wait because when you're facing the ten thousand Templars of Demon Mountain-"

"There's no such mountain!" Altaïr objected incredulously to the horrible name for a piece of land and she sighed exasperatedly. Was there any story that he wouldn't try poking holes into? Sometimes, she swore the man bit into her stories since his carried no drama and pure monotone suspense. She would've loved to act out his stories since his past was a mystery to her even now and he was a good storyteller as well (if only he'd add emotion to make them phenomenal).

"You're a negative Nancy with story time- eat your vegetables" Vivian ordered with a firm tone since he never hesitated to bite into her stories for inaccuracies. How could one rebuff the awesome tales of Gandalf and Obi-Wan Kenobi? The assassin glared at her for being brushed aside like a little moth and she continued with a dramatic voice, "And so-"

The assassin arched an eyebrow to keep riling her further and challenged smugly, "Show me the mountain."

"It's in the land of Po Panda" she shot back indignantly since she'd no idea how much geography he knew of China and wasn't about to have her film parody ruined. She was almost inclined to recite the tale of Scrooge as a jab to his grumpy demeanor but the hawk-like glare set on his face told her to immediately forget it. Ezio might have the charms but Altaïr had glower power to cry you into submission (she blamed the amber speckles within his light brown eyes). With her last stand of defense broken through, she looked away to continue her tale, "And so, the mighty warriors-"

Their picnic was disrupted by two strangers that spelled evildoers galore and Vivian sighed dismally, "Of course, we had to get our own bandits of Evil Mountain."

"I thought it was Demon Mountain" Malik corrected as he kept a calculative eye on the approaching newcomers and Altaïr growled to their off-topic conversation. Vivian covered the lower half of her face to hide her feminine structure and fed herself under the cloth like a mouse sneaking morsels. Strange men with an ominous aura or not, she was going to fill her belly with food that day.

Her green eyes observed the men dressed in neutral hued linen garb as leather belts adorned their waists. A chill slivered down her spine when she caught sight of rope hanging from them, along with metal bands that could only resemble archaic shackles to handcuff unfortunate people. Although their skin tone was dark to resemble men of African descent, she couldn't tell whether they hailed from the north or east Africa (the latter which was known for its slave trade). All she wanted was a decent meal and wanted to avoid any scuffles in this new settlement. She was glad to be sitting between her friends since she lacked anything to defend herself with, unless you counted a wooden plate, and tried to appear as tiny as a bug.

"May we help you?" Altaïr asked calmly to portray his scholar farce and nodded to the men. With numerous merchants about, he wasn't certain what language they would be speaking since Arabic was his natural tongue. English would come as a second but even then, he didn't know it perfectly. He hoped that Vivian would help translate their words in case they spoke neither language.

"We just came from the slave auctions and couldn't help but notice your servant" the tallest of the two spoke in Arabic and the assassin relaxed since this would help him gauge the two better. Altaïr was surprised they would think he was the owner of a slave and although he expected them to point towards Vivian, they focused on Malik. What could Malik possibly exude that would qualify him as such? The thought was heinous enough for any living being and he was stunned when the merchant asked with interest, "How much did you pay for him?"

Altaïr shifted his gaze between his two companions and Malik withheld a frown when the men pointed to him like cattle. Apparently, speaking about enslavement was an everyday thing around those parts and Malik had half a mind to eliminate them where they stood. Unfortunately, they couldn't bring attention to themselves but he'd try to free people when the shroud of night could cover his and Altaïr's tracks. Altaïr had stiffened in restrained outrage but his posture slackened slightly when Vivian's hand touched his back to keep him levelheaded. The shorter man that sported a hood over his head against the sun tried to bargain with Altaïr, "We could give you a good bargain if you'd ever like to sell him. It's rare to see an Arabian for sale but most are like him, lacking a limb or two."

Vivian glared at the floor before she uttered something that would give away her gender and simply clenched her fists to the horrible derogatory comments. Her dai friend could kick anyone's ass with or without his current handicap, hating how demeaning the world could be throughout the centuries. Altaïr cleared his throat to decline the offer with forced courtesy to prevent a validated butchering, "My brother and I could never depart with my best slave. He's a good housekeeper despite missing a limb and good pack mule, especially during travels. There are times when his slacking in the morning tires me but I don't have the time to train someone new."

"Well, if you do decide to, we're in the northwest camps but there are good bargains here if you seek another" the first man suggested with a final nod as he pointed to the west where they'd seen the auctions during their arrival. Altaïr thanked them for the tip and the two headed off to the docks further east that would return them back to the opposite side of the lake. Vivian hoped she'd never encounter those kinds of people for as long as she lived while Malik burned holes into their backs with a glare.

"At least you're a good pack mule, I offer nothing" Vivian piped up sweetly to lighten the mood since she took that title in their team as the little tortoise. Frankly, she was surprised she hadn't won the award for living pack mule of the year or been dubbed 'Donkey'. She already had an ogre named Shrek and a suave puss-in-boots with Malik by her side. Nonetheless, the new land gave her a feeling of unease since it carried none of the friendliness of Giza and knew she couldn't explore without glancing over her shoulder continually. The fact that Malik's presence could be sent through the gossip chain between slavers didn't make her feel any better. She looked to Altaïr with worry about their temporary stay on the lake since she expected a little peace and admitted softly, "I don't like this place."

"Me neither" he agreed quietly as their laid-back mood was dampened by the fact that real human beings were being auctioned off close by. Although it was common in Altaïr's time in specific areas and a few lands in Vivian's, none of them were comfortable with the idea. He smiled faintly at Vivian to make his team feel at ease as he swallowed his pride and suggested, "Why don't you continue telling us about Demon Mountain?"

Vivian smiled appreciatively as he allowed her that freebie and Malik agreed with interest, "Did they actually kill ten thousand Templars?"

Vivian shifted her sight away from her friends, inadvertently answering that she was but continued nonetheless, "_Maybe_ I exaggerated but anyway, as Ezio and his loyal assassins faced the mighty horde. . ."

* * *

Altaïr tore off his muddy boots as he sat on the flat stone in the middle of their bedroom as he allowed his feet to breathe after hours of walking. His body relaxed for the first time as his shoulders slumped and he stared at his bare feet to grumble flatly, "All that walking for nothing."

Their search had yielded nothing and only served to cross off areas they checked but Malik had reminded him the artifacts were old. They had found the ankh within an ancient temple and this one could be buried under the earth after centuries of never knowing that an ancient civilization had once dominated the planet. Altaïr wasn't looking forward to digging holes throughout the lake and wondered whether he could use the items in his possession to find it.

Vivian leaned forward on her left leg as she stretched her hamstrings and grinned humorously, "At least you stretched those nice hamstrings and burned off fat."

"Fat keeps you alive when you can't eat" he rationalized since his body was constantly in motion and needed cushioning for his muscles like any other person. Vivian scoffed since the man ate more than Malik and his expression fell to her little exercise cool-off as she wagged her brows in enthusiasm. She could be quite ridiculous in any setting and refrained from throwing one of his boots at her as he stated dryly, "Your ways kill a piece of me every time I see something like this."

In rebuttal, Vivian turned around to smack her own butt as she gave him a perfect view of it and chirped smartly, "Deal with it."

He gave no acknowledgement to her silly display and kept the fact that she had green grass stains all over her butt to himself. It was easier to ignore her by staring at the stains rather than the female anatomy aimed towards him and stated simply, "I'll head out early tomorrow but I need to remap the area-"

"Malik's already doing that, he's the geographic brains in this operation" she interjected firmly and strode forward to lightly press down on his shoulders. Well, she attempted to since she had to stand on the tips of her toes to add force into her push. The assassin, however, didn't budge under her grip and merely quirked an eyebrow as she grunted, "Relax for the night, you've been nothing but tense since arriving. I know this isn't the best place to spend our weeks but we have a good head start, maybe even a clear win, so breathe for a moment before you drown yourself."

A light bulb went off in his head and he practically threw Vivian aside as he declared energetically, "_Swimming_! Why didn't I think of it? Maybe there's an old submerged structure and-"

She lowered the famous white hood over his face to halt his sudden motor mouth immediately since he'd barely returned home. He swatted her hands aside and she ignored his ruffled look as he fixed his hood just the way he liked it- covering his eyes just enough for a natural ominous glare. Vivian was undeterred by it when his health was concerned and jabbed a finger against his chest as she ordered nonnegotiable, "Eat, bathe, and come back to that thought afterwards."

"Vivian, you never touch an assassin's hood" he chastised huffily and touched the start of his hood to hide like a turtle once more. She gently swatted the pointy front that resembled an eagle's beak to ruffle his feathers further but he batted her hand away. Did she have no respect for his clothing? He'd worked himself to death to attain his rank and wouldn't allow the little badger to pester his robes, especially his beloved hood.

"I thought that was the hidden blade" she teased with a double meaning whose euphemism wasn't lost on him and he swatted the side of her head for the unsavory joke. Vivian whimpered as she held her head with a pout but he knew it was all for show since he'd stopped attempting to knock her unconscious. She knew how to turn his most valuable belongings into something lecherous and he was better off not knowing any of it! A sharp glare silenced any more mischievousness and she raised her hands peacefully to state with concern, "All joking aside, you were hiking for quite a few hours so please, eat. I know you want to find this POE but it will be dark soon and it's not going anywhere anytime soon. It waited for eons wherever it is so it can handle a few days but your body can't."

He remained silent to her motherly heckling but she kept her firm stare locked on him that distinctly told him she wouldn't back down. The silent eagle glared down the stubborn badger in one last attempt to have his way but she squared her shoulders to show her dominance in this decision. Altaïr relented since she would undoubtedly fuss over him if he didn't and backed away from her in defeat as he grumbled, "Fine, but _only_ because you nagged me."

"I nag because I love" she justified matter-of-factly but was glad to hear of it, squeezing his right shoulder with a fond smile. Being faced with affection, Altaïr winced internally on how to react and simply patted the top of her head to return the same care. It would be rude not to, correct? Months ago, he would've made her scatter with a glare alone but he refused his facial muscles to do the same now. The corners of her lips shifted from a content smile to a thin line when he ruffled her hair into a puffy mess but Vivian earnestly admitted, "You're my friend and I always look out for those I love."

He wasn't able to reply as Malik came in with a small basket of biscuits in his arm to last them through the night. Vivian was quick to leave Altaïr's side and scampered over to grab one of the fresh biscuits to bite into it with hunger fit for a carnivorous dinosaur. Altaïr shook his head to her eagerness to eat since they'd had lunch six hours ago and teased sarcastically, "Honestly, Vivian, you eat enough for three people."

"Never insult a lady . . . and you knew this before we left Masyaf" she pointed out with smug smirk since she held no shame about her appetite and closed the door behind Malik. The dai chuckled to her nibbling and placed the basket on the table with books strewn over it from their search. Altaïr helped to organize them all into one stack to clear the mess since they had yet to set their last meal on the table.

"You two can never have a cease fire at night? It's like a ritual" the dai sighed hopelessly before chuckling at Vivian as she smiled impishly at Altaïr. The assassin merely told her to keep eating to prevent more sass from leaving her mouth. Malik looked over the rolled up maps that belonged to him and asked with amusement, "I hope Altair's chicken scratches didn't touch my maps?"

"I keep telling you, that drink spilled accidentally" he fussed about his recent try at drawing where his fruit drink fell onto the table to leave a horrible violet stain. Malik had yelled pretty well for about two minutes about 'novice all over again' and 'this is why you should never have nice things', along with 'I should rip off that hood'. It was pretty fascinating for Vivian to see the calm dai lose his cool for a brief moment but he was better at dissipating his anger than Altaïr. While the latter man roamed the land like a mad tiger, Malik merely occupied himself elsewhere and had left to look at the camels for sale. They would need to purchase two (or in Vivian's kleptomaniac mind, steal) before they left and he wanted to see which would be best.

Altaïr scowled at the two that dared to mar his developing skills and pointed out, "And my skills have _vastly_ improved since then."

"Shifting from a square to decent box and a stick figure to an anatomically incorrect person isn't vast" Malik stated dryly with a cocky grin since his maps had been carefully drawn and mutilated by unworthy hands. He would have a little more fun before forgetting the incident since the purple drink had covered a quarter of the map and Altaïr's uncoordinated dabbing had only spread it further. Altaïr grumbled under his breath as he became the butt of more jokes, leaning against the table with a frown, and the dai ordered simply, "Until you can draw a human face, we will keep improving your hand."

Vivian grabbed the bundle of leather books to replace them in Malik's 'cartography' pack as she called it and met Altaïr's apathetic gaze as she passed by to tease, "I suppose not all badass assassins can be awe inspiring artists."

"When I draw you being kicked by a horse, I will rub it in your face" he shot back snippily for having his art criticized and it stirred an amused grin from her lips. It reminded her of his similar reaction to being asked about his swimming skills, or lack of, and how hard he fought to avoid the topic. Just as he learned to swim, she was certain he'd grow talented enough to draw the numerous sketches in his codex that delighted her eyes every time she played the second game. Altaïr sat down with a disgruntled mumble as he shooed the two away and motioned to the basket of fresh biscuits to state, "I will be eating now so _no_ peeps out of you two about drawing."

Vivian and Malik eyed each other for a moment before remarking about his skills,

"Stay away from the charcoal."

"You're better at writing."

Altaïr's glare pretty much summarized 'screw you, guys' to them for their lack of confidence.

* * *

_Four days later. . ._

Malik had headed on below to take a quick bath after their search left them with nothing concrete in hand or clues to investigate further. While her friend took advantage of the free bath included with their stay, Vivian took advantage by plucking her dried undergarments that hung down the rear window to hide them from view. It was the easiest way to avoid any awkward questions since women dressed very conservatively and she'd become accustomed to their style since it offered natural sunblock. However, the lack of air flowing over her covered skin was quite annoying when she traveled under the sun and longed for an alternative that wouldn't have her stoned.

As she folded her laundry, she hummed to another old Disney song to keep herself company,

"_Al-ta-iiiiiiiir  
I killed you off many a time in games  
Is that why you're so mean?  
That gleam in your eyes is so-o-o-o familiar a gleam  
And no, I'm not being a stalker  
Nor a Mary-Sue walker_

_Al-taaaa-iiiiiiiir  
Yes, I know that you-u-u-u  
Will whack whack me on the he-e-e-ead  
Once you hear this song  
And if I know you, I know what you'll do  
You'll shut me up at once  
The way you always have but never in my dreams._

_Al-ta-iiiiir  
You're not the heroic Ezio-o-o-o  
But you take the auditory out of Auditore  
When you yell at me-"_

She wasn't able to finish her little homage tune when the grumpy man himself burst through the door after finishing his search. After she and Malik had insisted that they regroup and begin tomorrow, he'd left them on the shore and headed off on his own on the canoe. Normally, she would've been worried but he'd left in such a huff about finding clues that she was more worried for anyone he encountered. Whenever the man was pissed, somebody's ass would undoubtedly be kicked repeatedly until they needed a new tailbone.

She gasped with surprise when he entered the room in soaked robes that stuck to the contours of his body and rained droplets onto the floor. Malik had warned him about heading out when the cloud cover grew darker by the hour but the man had refused to listen to any of their reasoning as finding the item took priority above all else. Mother Nature had taken care of his defiance and now, Altaïr resembled a wet cat with alluring contours as he stomped by.

Vivian understood his need to find the piece of Eden but there were times she worried that he became almost obsessed in his search. There were no Templars in their vicinity and it was best to be prepared than run around in circles. Unfortunately, Altaïr refused to listen to logic as he tried to imitate a bloodhound and Vivian could only shake her head in disappointment to his appearance. He would have to find new clothes to wear for tomorrow since the lack of sunlight wouldn't dry anything and chastised with a motherly wag of her finger, "What did I tell you earlier, young man? Now see what happened to you!"

"Can I skip the lecture?" he asked flatly since his current condition was enough to tell him he'd been brash in heading off alone with rain on his tail. When there were pieces of Eden concerned, his logic tended to fail as he became focused entirely on finding it. He couldn't risk allowing the Templars or their agents to find any of them, especially when they could be right around the corner. Lake Victoria wasn't like the small settlement where he'd eliminated the small squad by infiltrating the brothel and he needed to be careful.

She nodded quickly since his health came first and grabbed his travel pack to order hastily, "Take the clothes off before you catch a cold!"

"Get out of the room then" he shot back indignantly since he wasn't disrobing with her inside and grabbed his belongings from her hands. He might trust Vivian as a friend but he wasn't about to be showing any bare skin around the woman. It wasn't because of her gender but he was a very private person that didn't walk around gallivanting with his bare body. Vivian shook her head to his fussy tone but left to grant him the privacy so he could remove the wet clothing.

After ten minutes, she returned to find a half-naked assassin airing out his robes by an _open_ window and she rushed quickly to shut it. The wooden panel slammed against the windowsill from the force as he held his wet clothes in his hands, aiming a heated glare for her interference. Vivian matched the same glare with her own ferocity since his wellbeing was her main concern and hissed worriedly, "Are you insane? Leave that drying over a chair before you catch your death."

Altaïr growled low in his throat but conceded to his smaller companion since the cold clothes were bothering his skin. He stomped over to the chairs to hang his robes over them (the outer layers over one and inner layers over the other) and Vivian fought the urge to roll her eyes to his dramatics. Honestly, it was like caring for a child- a handsome six foot tall man with no shirt. . .

"Put a shirt on, you'll catch pneumonia!" she barked worriedly and grabbed the white tunic lying on the stone table-thing to push it over his head. If he wasn't going to put in on willingly, she'd dress him herself. Altaïr had never been dressed in his entire life (he didn't count baby diaper days) and snapped indignantly at being manhandled by a petite woman. How _dare_ she touch him and enforce her dress code on him? It was quite a sight to see a six foot tall man batting away a five foot woman as she waved the tunic like white flag and demanded firmly, "Would you stop fighting and lean into my enraged embrace?"

"Never! It defies everything I stand for!" he shot back defiantly since he didn't need a maid treating him like royalty or to be mothered. Vivian, unfortunately, was not a being that tired easily and the two were equally matched in stamina as they fought their staring match. Every time he tried to dodge her, she sidestepped to prevent him and kept batting him with the tunic as she tried to pull it over his head. The neckline was large enough to place over his neck but he fidgeted every step of the way since he wanted to dress himself. The small woman didn't relent as she pushed him against the flat stone slab, pinning him in place with no way out, and he hissed with outrage, "Vivian! By the creed, you're a tiny horse!"

She kicked him in the kneecap for the short joke and it was enough to make him fall back onto the stone . . . well, they still hadn't figured out _what_ it was. Her eyes widened in surprise when he grabbed the white tunic to balance himself but Vivian wasn't strong enough to support his full weight. He fell with an angry cry of surprise onto the tough stone but managed to avoid hitting the back of his skull on it as Vivian tumbled after him. She landed awkwardly from the momentum as he dragged her along for the ride and her cheeks turned pink to her position atop him. Well, this was an unfortunate change of events.

Luckily, her chin landed at the end of his bare sternum and her inner fangirl spontaneously combusted into a pile of goo when his bare skin radiated heat into hers. Who wouldn't curl up to touching the badass assassin known as Altaïr? Nobody had ever dared to touch him and lived! Scratch that, only the people he bedded did but she wasn't treading anywhere near that without running off screaming. She smiled sheepishly from her new spot as she glanced up at the enraged man glaring holes into her and chuckled nervously, "It's a good thing I didn't land lower."

"You're still in an uncomfortable position- _between my legs!_" he stated sharply with emphasis as she breached all boundaries of his body and his glare was enough to tell her to scram. She receded quicker than the waves of the sea and stood up to stare at anything but him. All she'd wanted was to make him wear a decent shirt so he wouldn't die and received way more than she could handle with the man. Her hands had landed on his lower stomach when she'd fallen and he was not lacking in hard rock muscles so she could prove that theory correct. He was also smoother in skin texture than she expected. . .was the room getting hotter?

"You didn't have to call me a horse" she muttered softly as he fixed the tunic over his shoulders and rubbed the tip of her shoe against the floor. Well, at least he listened to her about coy clothing and blocked her view of that perfectly taut torso. She cursed her female hormones and lack of dating for ogling him with abashed shame but it was extremely hard not to when he was sitting right there like a lollipop with her as the kid with a sweet tooth.

"And you didn't have to dress me like a child!" he pointed out as he pulled the end of the tunic over his bare midriff to smooth it out the way he liked it (without creases). She raised her hands to show her surrender since she only sought his wellbeing and having achieved that, headed for the door. Altaïr could already tell he'd reacted wrongly as the frustration left his body and watched Vivian retreat with haste like a cub from a lion. He truly didn't mean to scare her off or leave her with resentment, leading him to usher her back with a wave of the hand as he sighed, "Come back, I'd rather fight you now than later."

"You're so broody lately and it's not the breezy weather because I love it" she remarked about his recent attitude and crossed her arms as she turned around to face him. Gauging the ruffled eagle from her position, she slowly inched closer to his position with caution since he could be a ticking bomb at times. Recently, he'd begun to shift from his usual grumpy self to a more snappish man that had begun to remind her uncomfortably of the old Altaïr. She admired his determination but sometimes . . . she worried it could border on obsession.

"I'm focused, there's a difference" he corrected swiftly but patted the stone slab in invitation to prevent souring their friendship. Although he was determined to find the artifact, he wouldn't be tearing into people to find it. She sat on the furthest left end to maintain a safety zone if he decided to resemble medusa herself and he sighed to her visible reluctance, "Vivian, I am not going to fight you. Besides, women should be proud to be called horses."

"As much as I like horses, I don't want to be considered a steed" she stated matter-of-factly since women were pretty much doormats in their era. If they were living in the old west of her country, she wouldn't mind imagining herself as a crime fighting horse. Unfortunately, her own good uses at the time were to simply carry her fat packs and wasn't keen on that cartoonish image. There was also another mental image that burst into mind when she considered herself a horse and pointed out dryly, "I don't want the mental image of you riding me and yelling hi-yah ingrained in my mind. It will turn into embarrassing and erotic roads with that picture."

"Part of me is inclined to believe you want both" he spoke simply since her mind was crafty but he wouldn't ponder about that in the slightest. This was Vivian- a cheeky woman with no charm whatsoever! It had been enough that they'd fallen into awkward moments in the last month but he'd douse himself in frigid water before deciding to have a keen eye on her. That wasn't to say she was horrible to look at- wait, _why_ was he still pondering all of this?!

"That part needs a lobotomy" she countered swiftly as her fingers brushed back strands of loose raven hair to cover her reddening ears. She didn't need him to know how easily he could fluster her. It was worrisome since months ago, she could chide him with sexual innuendo but it had slowly begun to affect her with their continuing interactions. There was no way she could develop anything but friendship for him and decided to imagine him with beaver teeth every time he talked. Her gaze softened as she decided to pry into his inner thoughts and asked curiously, "Why are you so grouchy recently? I am trying my best to help you, even if my methods are questionable to your icy fortress."

"Look, I spout angry nonsensical things when frustrated so excuse all of it" he muttered flatly since he kept digging himself into holes with her and it was best to drop it. He had flaws just like anybody else and his tended to be anger since it didn't take much to rile him. The fact that Vivian pressed into his personal space with innocent care for his wellbeing seemed to affect him more now that he was searching for the POE. He trusted her just as he did Malik but with her continuing presence around him, he tended to lash out to project his frustration. He didn't want that to interfere with their friendship and murmured apologetically, "I don't mean to become angry with you. You just happened upon me on a frustrating day when I'm cold from the rain and crankiness easily follows."

Her shoulders sagged as her feet kicked against the slab of stone and she admitted meekly, "I worry about you, Altaïr. I've never reached this far into your tale so questions always arise, along with increasing my concern. I know I can seem overbearing at times but it comes from a good place in my heart that really doesn't mean to be irritating."

"I appreciate it but I can take care of myself" he stated quietly to lessen the chastising blow on her caretaking ways since he'd never really had them. It was comforting to hear the words as they sat together without quarreling about it and appreciated the confession. He'd become accustomed to patching himself up, being patched up and moving along, or chastised for lacking in good health due to active missions but he'd never experienced being cared over. He doubted any assassin without a spouse had that caring aspect in their lives since they were trained from birth to be solitary.

There was no question whether he could handle himself and it amused him that she worried for him rather than herself. After all, he was the dangerous of the two and her petite frame (not to mention lack of weapons wielding skills) made her susceptible to injury. Their time together stirred worry on his part since the witty woman was no longer someone he wanted to be rid of and he admitted freely, "I'm used to this harsh life but I worry for you. I could crush you in a single accidental motion and I came pretty close to flattening you to extinction a few days ago."

"I'm not that small" she squeaked embarrassingly and cursed the tone of her voice because it didn't help at all! Who'd want to go into battle with a squeaker? She cleared her throat to be rid of the flustering voice since his concern sent the figurative cow in her heart soaring over the moon in happiness. It was the first time he'd admitted anything remotely sentimental and she smiled earnestly to gaze at him, "Like I said many times before, I'm quite difficult to kill. I'm like a Pokémon whose special ability is life regeneration or +10 attack damage when in your presence."

Altaïr released a long sigh of dismay to her future jargon, "Vivian, honestly, sometimes. . ."

His hand covered hers to offer a comforting squeeze and she smiled to the physical contact between them that wasn't induced by fighting. Her other hand laid over his to squeeze it with thanks for the support since he wasn't the type to shower you in praises or give you a high five of awesomeness. The fact that he'd decided to engage in physical contact rather than chastise her about her Pokémon comparison spoke volumes for their friendship. She'd never imagined having her hand in his, observing that it was smaller due to her short height but smiled to the radiating warmth. They were hands that ended lives and saved others while staying put from wringing her neck when she got cheeky. Her knuckles could feel the rough callouses on his fingers as he enveloped her hand like a protective cavern and Vivian fought her hardest not to giggle with glee.

She treasured him immensely, more than she could ever freely admit, and stated quietly, "Despite our humorous squabbling, you keep me sane and on my toes. Don't get sick on me anytime soon because it's bad enough with my monthly pal around to cause mayhem. I can't take care of you if I'm a dragon ready to munch on peasants and Malik would knock you over the head for whining."

He smiled faintly to her unbelievable transformation into a living banshee every month and replied sincerely, "I'll try my best for you."

It was words like that that made her little heart skip a beat and her ovaries implode.

"Are you blushing?" he teased with amusement as he noticed the pink tint on her cheeks and attributed it to their hand holding. Despite it would look badly for them since they weren't a courting item, he liked the feel of her smooth palm against his calloused one. They contrasted each other greatly but it was those same traits that bonded them into balance. He didn't have any romantic inkling towards her (the frigid lake would keep that in check) but it felt nice to have physical contact in support. It had been lacking his entire life and for the first time, he found someone who offered it freely with only his wellbeing in mind.

"No! Your hand merely burns with the intensity of a fire" she defended hastily as she turned darker and pulled her hand out of his to gently pat him on the shoulder. Yes, a platonic and hearty pat on the shoulder shared by awesome bros in battle would be far better than hand holding. Words could barely form on her tongue as she stammered nervously, "Y-You should, um, get that looked at."

With that said, she exited their bedroom to roam the hall for a few minutes and catch her breath. Raindrops clattered against the closed windows of the empty hallway as she leaned against the wall while inside the room, Altaïr looked to his empty left hand. His missing ring finger only served as a reminder to oath of commitment he'd taken for the brotherhood and against creating relationships. He'd never held a woman's hand (except while bedding one) and Maria had only allowed him to walk close in a sign of trust but never more. Yet, Vivian didn't mind reciprocating his curiosities as they traveled together and he was almost inclined to ask her again for her hand. The thought was enough to spark a warm flutter in his chest and he stilled immediately because the same had happened while traveling with Maria. He knew just where that road had led and he wasn't about to allow the same with Vivian out of worry at disintegrating their friendship.

* * *

**A/N**: We can see that Vivian loves to smother Altaïr to death despite he can take care of himself. Also, they're rather hilariously cute together as they try to ignore what's already happening between them. I always love writing the chapters with a singing Vivian since it makes the readers laugh and Altaïr ready to beat himself. On another note, I dedicate the 'Once Upon A Dream' parody to _ShizukaRen-Hime_ who helped create the song in a previous review- it came out awesome! They'll be exploring the lake once more in the next chapter but Altaïr's tendency to protect himself will backfire when it's directed at Vivian.

_RandomCitizen_: when it comes to stories, Malik will be the common man and react like we would while Altaïr. . .well, we saw how picky he can be about logic within tales. Malik could definitely use a lady (permanently) but for now, Vivian will keep reeling them in for him.

_MockerDelight_: Thank you so much for loving the story, especially one for an entire fandom, and I try my best to please!

_bebasantos56_: Thank you for being such a dedicated reader since day one, I love hearing from my first readers. I'm glad to help you gain insight for better writing since I've been just the same with other writers so it's an endless cycles- plus, I'm a helper by nature. Lol. Don't worry, the Altaïr/Vivian romance will keep snowballing now that they're in Lake Victoria.

_KrnYong_: Bashir totally wants to play big brother but Darim's like 'no way' since all he sees is his mother and Ilias. Lol. The mighty unflappable Ilias is a hilarious nickname since he's definitely more levelheaded and calmer than Altaïr. I'm pretty sure Altaïr would've winced or told Maria to never again mention female anatomy and its post-pregnancy wonders. I've slept on hand weaved straw mats before and the only annoyance in the noise but thankfully, I've never slept on straw like Vivian or 12th century folk. Malik will definitely push his 'big brother' role to the limit since the two will be quarreling as Altaïr's search borders a little obsessively in the upcoming chapters. We can see the two are already in the first stages of denial as they try to avoid the fact neither of them is horrendous despite the lack of decent hygiene. Lol

_Tachibana Natsu_: Thanks for liking the story!

_xVentressx_: Thanks for the dedication, I appreciate it.

_MiyukiShiyouku_: Lol. Maria and Ilias have a certain two peas in a pod flair that Altaïr and Vivian lack.

_Lonerwolf1015_: For the brothel reaction, I wouldn't see Altaïr longing to be touchy after having his personal space breached unwillingly so Vivian adapted to make him feel comfortable. Lol. Fast forward to Lake Victoria and the two are trying to ignore the fact that they can stand each other for more than they actually expected. We'll be seeing more hilarious sexual entendre in later chapters just to see him squirm.

_Eravel_: Lol. There has never been an easier way to tumble the granite assassin like having Vivian sing about him. I've definitely heard music from Epic Score and Immediate (I love the latter) but I'll be checking out the other two to add more music to my playlists. I'm glad you love the story and having Malik as the handsome 'woman' was really hilarious since it gave Vivian ample time to loot food. Lol

_Lissa_: Thank you for loving the story and I usually update within 2-3 weeks on the weekends. This time, I took longer since I worked an entire week without a break so I was pooped. lol

* * *

**Next Time**: Breaking of the Fellowship?

He skipped forward to avoid any more intimate drawings and found a chicken, followed by a smiling man that oddly resembled him but wore a more elaborate outfit- was this Ezio? He swore that man filled her mind more than she admitted. What was it about the man that allured her? Grumbling under his breath, he flipped forward about three pages (why did he need so many?) but found empty pages afterwards as Vivian hit her current end. He ran through the rest of pages with a lazy stare since he had nothing else to do but stopped when a new page of sketches appeared.

His brow furrowed as he found four different angles of himself drawn onto the paper. Each focused on different features of his face and he had to admit, her skills were far better than he could've done with his own face. He turned the page to find the page split into four square section and his robes were detailed from the hood, chest, and legs in two different views. What had she drawn that for? He found himself washing clothes on the next page and scribbles in the English language pointed to certain areas of sketch. What was that little badger doing? Curious, he flipped the page and blinked with surprise to find a panoramic back view of himself gazing into the Valley of the Kings. The back of his robes were highly detailed as the previous pages and he could distinctly see the sealed tombs. The next page depicted him meditating in the center of a field- had she followed him? No, he would've found her.

The next page held a detailed portrait of his head and shoulders without the white robes. He was taken aback to the close view but after a year on the road, could see how she managed to grasp each detail. The question was: why him? Where were the Malik images to balance it out? He'd already seen the numerous Ezio sketches in earlier pages so that was balanced. He flipped through the rest of the book but found nothing else, just the majority at the start and the six pages in the far center of the book. It caused an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he gazed at his hand drawn image due to its intimate perspective. How long had she been drawing him without him knowing it? His lips curved in a faint smile at seeing the dedication in her work since nobody had ever bothered to write, much less, draw him.

The door opened to reveal Vivian with a charcoal piece in hand but her eyes darted between her book and the assassin instantly. She swallowed nervously as her private drawings were discovered by the model himself and hoped he wouldn't jump to the right conclusion. Being pinned with spying or breaching privacy would be better than him realizing that she'd begun to harbor feelings for him. How could she possibly explain that without fracturing their friendship? Keeping a straight face, she managed to keep her voice even and piped up, "Find anything interesting?"

"You've been drawing me" he stated quietly as he scrutinized the drawing, almost demanding it answer his question. He wanted to know why she'd chosen to draw him and why he wanted to reject the warm feelings it surfaced within him.

"Not any more than I have Ezio" she grinned cheekily but she was going bonkers on the inside as her mind craved the book back. The man was incredibly sharp and if he picked up a whiff of her affection, everything could fall out into the open. She wanted her book safely in her hands and tried to keep her voice steady as she asked, "Finished perusing?"

He didn't answer right away and she approached him quietly, peering at the sketches to state softly, "You offered a very good model for my skills but if it unsettles you, I will stop."

"My hair isn't scruffy, it is cut short and grows downward" he stated simply as he pointed to random areas or tiny mistakes to dissipate the disturbing warm feeling in his chest. He didn't like it and after experiencing it once with Maria, he didn't want it back anytime soon to prevent another fiasco of his love life. It was best to reject any possibility of seeking female attention to keep his mind clear on his goal and this was _Vivian_. Out of all women, why Vivian? She was his companion only and he'd best remember that before he made a fool of himself. He cleared his throat to lie through his teeth to protect himself and rambled on useless reasons, "My eyes are too close together and I frown more than that- it's practically a natural glower. Not to mention, my cheekbones are higher and my face is slimmer. I'm not Ezio, Vivian. Keep a steadier hand and you might make these good."

He handed her the book to exit the room quickly to escape the tight feeling in his chest that replaced the old warm one. Lying wasn't good but it was a decent alternative to the uncertain truth. What could he say? That nobody had dared to do such a thing and it was strangely heartwarming that one chose to.

* * *

_Thank you for reading my story, dear readers, and may you all be safe on your wanderings in life. I'll see you next time and please, leave a review if you can. :)_


	34. The Breaking of the Fellowship?

**A/N**: I made a cover for the story featuring the cast but you can see a bigger view on my profile by clicking either the photobucket link at the start or story cover under the story information. I've also updated story info for the sequel I'll write to this tale due to its love by the readers and I've added songs to add the overall feel of the upcoming tale.

**Music Inspiration**: Bear McCreary- _"The Mercy of the Living"_

* * *

**Breaking of the Fellowship?**

* * *

"Staring at the lake won't make the item magically appear" Vivian advised gently as the sparkling water betrayed none of its underwater secrets to the duo. Her hand gently patted his left shoulder blade in sympathy but also to make a sudden grasp to the leather strap holding his crossbow in case he decided to plunge into the lake's depths solo.

They had been scouring every inch of the area around the lake on the canoe and after making holes in earth to resemble gophers, Altaïr had given up on finding anything useful in the forest. Neither the land, lake, or people were handing out any clues and it left the trio blind as to where to go next (not to mention, frustrated). This had left Altaïr in a cantankerous mood that only kept growing over the days and Vivian's perky demeanor had been skyrocketed to maximum in an attempt to keep him levelheaded. She tried to stay by his side as much as she could but when even Malik ran out of stamina to keep searching, Vivian had pushed herself further. Loyalty was a powerful energy booster and she'd tagged alongside him, even with aching knees, to hike wherever he wished. The man was like a relentless Terminator and as she'd heaved for air to enter her lungs, she realized the man was truly indestructible if he could defeat her _and_ Malik.

Thankfully, they had returned to the side of the lake where their inn was before Vivian collapsed out of exhaustion. Malik had called it a day a few hours back to wash up and read a book but Vivian stuck to Altaïr's side like a barnacle as they gazed at the lake. She knew they hadn't advanced anywhere since they arrived two weeks ago and they were almost at the third week mark, leaving Altaïr frustrated since he had a short temper as it was. Shedding a brighter light on their situation was slowly beginning to fail and Vivian had to find new ways to tear his attention away from the mission to prevent him from becoming borderline obsessive.

"We're getting closer, I know it, so let that keep your optimism going" she encouraged kindly as she watched the calm ripples of the lake, wondering where the item could be. She'd give away all of her money if just one _tiny_ itty bitty sign greeted them! Hikes yielded nothing and sweeps around the lake with the canoe offered the same since they couldn't see through water. Vivian doubted there was dangerous life underwater but she wasn't comfortable with Altaïr diving in since he was barely a beginner. What could she do if something went wrong? Water was dangerous territory, especially for someone who just grasped the basics, and Vivian doubted she or Malik could lug his unconscious body if the worst happened. Scratch that, the worst would be him heading off _alone_ without them and doing so.

Altaïr snorted lightly because optimism wouldn't bring him that item any quicker and stated coolly, "Standing around won't do anything either."

"You can't just swim the entire lake in days, there's depth and oh- boats that can whack you on the head" she reminded flatly about the number one problem that could kill him if he wasn't careful. His newfound persistence could blind him if he wasn't careful and Vivian didn't hesitate to voice it in order to protect him. If he couldn't see what she saw in him as they investigated . . . it would begin to worry her. She would be by his side through thick and thin but she would make logical- sometimes tough- decisions that would keep him safe. With that in mind, she took two steps forward to stand ahead of him and pointed to the boats moving about in their routine ferries, "We can use the canoe in the less populated areas first to dive and then, if we can, take our chances in the heavier traffic when it's lowest."

"This job is never easy" he sighed tiredly since they'd spanned the entire land within the week without many breaks and had lost sleep over it. If they could focus their entire time on the lake, maybe _something_ would surface. He had planned numerous outings over the land and only had underwater trips in mind now since digging holes in the earth didn't seem to be any better.

"Well, it's why we have the best for it, don't we?" she replied warmly since he was the only one who could do all of this until someone else could carry on his work. Although he was as grumpy as an alley cat, she tried to cheer him up by fluffing his ego to the max since the eagle was exhausted. She took notice of the dark circles under his eyes since he'd been staying up writing and formulating plans, heading out early every day to continue investigating. Nonetheless, his brown orbs pierced through his tired face with shrewd perception as he eyed the lake carefully. There had been nights when she'd woken up to use the chamber pot and with embarrassment, found him scribbling away next to a burning candle on its stand. It was during quiet moments like that that Vivian could see why he was admired by his assassins and the part that held fondness for him grew at seeing his dedication. Of course, he fussed about _her_ losing sleep when she wrapped a blanket around him to keep him warm during the night but she didn't argue to maintain peace.

She found her hand slipping into his to offer a sympathetic squeeze, unafraid to the breach in personal space. The passing weeks, not to mention months, had bridged their friendship to a point where he didn't reject or chastise her as he would've in the past. It was a great boost in their trust when he squeezed her hand as she offered a kind smile to dull the gnawing worries in his mind because it certainly would do neither of them any good. Her heart rate skyrocketed to the gentle touch since his hand could crush hers in one squeeze if he willed it and she whispered tentatively, "You're not alone in this, Altaïr. Let's get a light snack and formulate a plan with our canoe since sundown is still hours away. You can sleep for an hour or so and don't tell me no because I've noticed your sleeping habits as of late."

He'd been ready to argue his energy level was fine but he'd barely slept three hours the night before as he twisted in bed repeatedly with ideas for the search. How could he sleep when the perfect idea could spring on him within the sea already floating in his mind? Vivian's look, however, was nonnegotiable and she'd force him into bed and lock the room to enforce that needed sleep- even if she had to knock him out. She'd never tried it after being on the receiving end repeatedly but Malik was always happy to silence the assassin when he was fussy. She wanted him to get a decent sleep to jumpstart his neurons back to their stupendous capacity and smiled, "It's time for me to purge my brain with ideas, we're a team and I'm trying my best to lighten your load. I'm sure standing on my head will get the juices flowing."

"Or break your neck" he stated dryly to her strange habits since her singing and erratic dances were enough to leave him bewildered. Vivian merely smiled impishly as she brought back his witty sarcasm and the corners of his mouth lifted at seeing her original intent. He considered himself lucky for having her by his side and there were many times as of late that he took it for granted but at the moment . . . his mind was clear to cherish it. He released her hand after one last squeeze of appreciation for her gesture, inadvertently causing her ears to betray her with reddened tips. For once, he spared teasing her flustered appearance and merely informed her with light amusement lacing his tone, "Tell Malik I'll be in our room."

She watched him leave with concerned eyes since that side of the familiar Altaïr she'd come to know and love- eh, platonically! - could disappear quickly when stressed. No matter how tough life became, she'd be the Sam to his Frodo or the Robin to his Batman. She flexed her fingers in disbelief to holding the deadly hand of the best assassin _ever_ and living to tell the tale! Her inner fangirl danced with glee to the once in a lifetime touch but she simply breathed surreally as she gazed at her hand, "Ooh. I just touched the mighty hand of Altaïr himself!"

Her eyes widened with glee since nobody could say the same in her time and resisted from hugging her own hand as she gushed, "This is the stuff of legends made to be told to grandchildren . . . well, more like fans because I doubt Altaïr will have the marketable resale of Mario and Sonic in thirty years."

Seconds later, she fell to temptation and held her hand close to her chest- hoping that nobody would think she was insane.

* * *

Altaïr yawned as he stood alone inside his shared room, wondering whether the silence inside was good or bad for his tired mind. He was constantly on edge towards finding the piece of Eden but his team was right, he couldn't bury himself into the ground with exhaustion. That would be the opposite of succeeding, right? He bit into a fresh crunchy pear to finish the balanced meal Vivian had insisted on preparing for him and had been amused to see her plow her way towards the inn's well to grab him a drink of water. She took far better care of him than he could and had accepted her generosity while she'd headed downstairs to play a little fly on the wall with Malik as her buddy. He grabbed his traveling journal off the table with his free hand as it and a few other books were lying about for his perusing pleasure. Of course, he kept his important codex and journal under lockdown in a secret spot since he didn't trust any area to be void of sneaky Templars or snooping burglars.

He noticed a thinner brown book to the right side that wasn't his and he picked it up with curiosity, opening the cover with his thumb to peer inside. Was it Malik's? The man did carry more books than he and Vivian combined. The Arabic script filled the inside cover as the humorous words Badger Land hid the true author's name to remain incognito if anyone managed to capture it anytime soon. He released a scoff of amusement between his lips to her outlandish words but this was Vivian- no words were needed to describe her quirkiness. He carefully flipped to the next page to make sure it hadn't been written into since he promised not to read her private journal and wanted to avoid a catastrophic fight. This book, however, was the sketch book she was hardly without during travel and he placed his half-eaten pear down to gaze into the mind of that little screwball. Of course, if anyone else dared to call her the same, he would pulverize them for insulting his little partner in crime.

The first few pages held images of the vast Egyptian landscape and humorous caricatures that he complained about when he'd seen them a year ago. What in blazes was a Jedi anyway? He had to admit, her petite fingers were delicate in each stroke. The next continued to show the horizon of the Valley of the Kings, a wild rabbit, and Malik waving a ridiculous sword attachment on his missing arm. A few nameless caricatures followed that he was certain belonged from her strange world. The forest of the south Sudan filled a page, another held him cleaning his sword from a dorsal view- he never let her get too close, did he? He balked at the next one that held him drooling with Malik drawing on his face in a caricature style and another with his hair in ridiculous styles- were those buns?! A man with shoulder-length hair and outlandish clothes that painted a sitting brunette woman followed and the next included her tent at camp. His brow rose as he found a small metal fence encircling a square one-level home and he realized this was her home in the future. This was her azure Berkeley home that she longed to return to and looked to see it had a small garden with short grass surrounding it.

He skipped forward to avoid any more intimate drawings and found a chicken, followed by a smiling man that oddly resembled him but wore a more elaborate outfit- was this Ezio? Was this that skirt chasing playboy? He swore that man filled her mind more than she admitted and grit his teeth to that. What was it about the man that allured her? Grumbling under his breath, he flipped forward about three pages (why did he need so many?) but found empty pages afterwards as Vivian hit her current end. He ran through the rest of pages with a lazy stare since he had nothing else to do but stopped when a new page of sketches appeared.

His brow furrowed as he found four different angles of himself drawn onto the paper. Each focused on different features of his face and he had to admit, her skills were far better than he could've done with his own face. He turned the page to find the page split into four square sections and his robes were detailed from the hood, chest, and legs in two different views. What had she drawn that for? He found himself washing clothes on the next page and scribbles in the English language pointed to certain areas of sketch. What was that little badger doing? Curious, he flipped the page and blinked with surprise to find a panoramic back view of himself gazing into the Valley of the Kings. The back of his robes were highly detailed as the previous pages and he could distinctly see the sealed tombs. The next page depicted him meditating in the center of a field- had she followed him? No, he would've found her with her lack of stealth.

The next page held a detailed portrait of his head and shoulders without the white robes. He was taken aback to the close view but after a year on the road, could understand how she managed to grasp each detail. The question was: why him? Where were the Malik images to balance it out? He'd already seen the numerous Ezio sketches in earlier pages so that was balanced. He flipped through the rest of the book but found nothing else, just the majority at the start and the six pages in the far center of the book. It caused an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he gazed at his hand drawn image due to its intimate perspective. How long had she been drawing him without him knowing it? His lips curved in a faint smile at seeing the dedication in her work since nobody had ever bothered to write, much less, draw him.

The door opened to reveal Vivian with a charcoal piece in hand but her eyes darted between her book and the assassin instantly. Uh-oh. She swallowed nervously as her private drawings were discovered by the model himself and hoped he wouldn't jump to the right conclusion. Being pinned with spying or breaching privacy would be better than him realizing that she'd begun to harbor feelings for him. How could she possibly explain that without fracturing their friendship? Keeping a straight face, she managed to keep her voice even while her stomach fluttered wildly with nervousness on the inside and piped up, "Find anything interesting?"

"You've been drawing me" he stated quietly as he scrutinized the drawing, almost demanding it answer his question. How long had she been drawing him? Watching him? He wanted to know why she'd chosen to draw him and why he wanted to reject the warm feelings it surfaced within him.

"Not any more than I have Ezio" she grinned cheekily but she was going bonkers on the inside as her mind craved the book back desperately. The man was incredibly sharp and if he picked up a whiff of her affection, everything could fall out into the open. The weeks on the lake had only served to strengthen the inkling of affection she'd begun to discover upon arriving and she feared its growing development. There were dire consequences for daring to attempt it and the time-space continuum would slap her into oblivion for it. She wanted her book safely in her hands and tried to keep her voice steady as she asked innocently, "Finished perusing?"

He didn't answer right away and she approached him quietly, peering at the sketches to state softly, "You offered a very good model for my skills but if it unsettles you, I will stop."

It would've been incredibly easy and the most logical route to politely ask to be opted out of her work but Altaïr was not exactly ordinary. He wanted to remove the warm flutter in his chest at all costs and ridding himself of the sketches was the easiest method in his mind. Unfortunately, he didn't stop to think _who_ he would inadvertently hurt with his response.

"My hair isn't scruffy, it is cut short and grows downward" he stated simply as he pointed to random areas or tiny mistakes to dissipate the disturbing warm feeling in his chest. He didn't like it and after experiencing it once with Maria, he didn't want it back anytime soon to prevent another fiasco of his love life. It was best to reject any possibility of seeking female attention to keep his mind clear on his goal and this was _Vivian_. Out of all women, why Vivian? She was his companion only and he'd best remember that before he made a complete fool of himself. He cleared his throat to lie through his teeth to protect himself and rambled on useless reasons, "My eyes are too close together and I frown more than that- it's practically a natural glower! Not to mention, my cheekbones are higher and my face is slimmer. I'm not Ezio, Vivian. Keep a steadier hand and you might make these good."

He handed her the book to exit the room quickly to escape the tight feeling in his chest that replaced the old warm one. Lying wasn't good (it was shameful) but it was a decent alternative to the uncertain truth clouding his mind. What could he say? That nobody had dared to do such a thing and it was strangely heartwarming that one chose to. Vivian, on the other hand, was crestfallen to see months' worth of sketches cast aside because she'd been careful in getting each detail perfectly right. She'd even bought pigments to begin her first attempts at painting by mixing the colors with egg whites or gum Arabic . . . but it was for nothing.

_I thought they were good_, she thought dejectedly and closed her book to swallow down the criticism with grace. As a level-headed person, she would take his opinion to mind and make the adjustments to better her skills rather than fight a lost battle. There weren't many things she was good at and drawing always brought her the simple joy that maybe she could add it to her repertoire. However, it seemed that her model had spoken on her results and she thought glumly, _I guess I'll have to work even harder . . . but I tried my best. What if my best simply isn't good enough? After all, he mastered artwork in his codex that puts mine to shame already . . . maybe he does have a point._

Altaïr practically flew down the stairs to escape Vivian since the greater distance between them, the less likely he would say something stupid. The only familiar face in the inn was only a few meters away and he shot forward to seek advice from the only man he trusted in that land. He sat down across from Malik while his friend wrote down notes about Lake Victoria to go over with his maps since bringing them down would draw an eye. His quiet scribbles halted when his friend released a long sigh that told him he'd done something idiotic or regretful (or both) and halted writing to hear the story. He didn't have to ask at all since he was the only one Altaïr could seek advice from and his friend muttered with shame, "I think I might've crushed Vivian's potential in order to protect myself."

"You didn't throw her down the stairs again, did you?" he asked quickly since Altaïr carried a strong hand and Vivian wasn't quick enough to dodge a playful swat in close quarters. He remembered seeing her fly down Masyaf's stairs and land like a stranded turtle when he'd been chasing her down. Altaïr directed a firm glare with offense for being dared to be called a woman beater and Malik raised his hand to calm his friend down. He was used to their quarrels nowadays since they could be solved rather quickly with an apology and asked carefully, "What did you do? I'm certain she'll be happy within the hour."

Altaïr wasn't ready to admit the subject of her drawings since his own reaction hadn't mixed well and he was still trying to find a balance. It didn't take much on his part to crush Vivian's spirit and he hated to do so intentionally for self-preservation. He needed to find a way to mend what he'd done and explained with a low voice carrying guilt, "She. . .well, I might have criticized her sketching to make up for my own inadequacy."

Malik's eyebrow quirked since criticizing could turn bad when it came from Altaïr's mouth. At best, it would be catastrophic and Malik had become the assassins' most renowned peacemaker whenever Altaïr was involved with new recruits (he'd had a 50% rate in making them cry thus far). Subtlety in speech was not as mastered as it was with his other skills and the dai hesitated to find out the answer when he asked slowly with abating breath, "Criticized what and how?"

Altaïr pinched the bridge of his nose since he wanted to tread carefully with his words to avoid Malik verbally exploding on him. He cared for Vivian as a sister and that attachment would turn him hostile if he learned he'd hurt her feelings over false facts. It wasn't as if it was intentional but Altaïr had to protect himself from whatever foul thing was causing his chest to grow warm at the mere sight of her. The fingers of his left hand tapped against the wooden table as he murmured carefully, "She made a few portraits that were . . . they were stunning but I couldn't _tell_ her that-"

"Why not? What is so hard about you giving others a single compliment?" he asked shrewdly since Vivian was sensitive when it came to three things: having her intelligence mocked, insulting her appearance (what woman wasn't?), and having her skills demeaned. There wasn't much that affected her since she took most of Altaïr's snarky comments in stride (most people would've shoved him into the nearest well) but Malik hoped he hadn't dealt a knockout punch. He'd witnessed it on the outskirts of Giza when his friend inadvertently struck Vivian an emotional blow and wasn't eager to see it again. Malik narrowed his eyes to make the assassin feel the size of a tiny ant and leaned forward with his arm on the table to demand quietly, "Again, you better speak your mind or _I'll_ be mad for not being trusted either."

Altaïr fought the urge to wriggle in his seat out of having to disclose personal information and mumbled with a tone that bordered on sheepish, "She drew . . . I'll _kill_ you if you laugh . . . she drew me. Nobody has done such a . . . kind . . . gesture and it unnerved me completely. I hate that I liked it and it made me feel . . . I . . . it doesn't matter. Being caught didn't help-"

Malik ran his hand through his short locks before burying his head in it and asked, "Let me guess, you asserted your dominance by defending yourself with a personal attack. I thought we taught you _not_ to be petty anymore!"

"Well, it turns out I'm in severe need of maintenance lessons" Altaïr shot back with a grumpy frown and crossed his arms since this wasn't giving him any answers. If anything, his need for advice seemed to have shifted into an interrogation! He acknowledged he was in the wrong- otherwise, he wouldn't be there- and pointed out hastily, "I think I hurt her, even if she isn't showing it- she's become good in masking her emotions. I made a foolish mistake by correcting her entire work and I hate that I'm going to have to apologize because a sad face from her makes me want to punch myself."

In frustrated afterthought, Altaïr almost pulled at his hood in an attempt to sate the need to hit something and questioned sharply, "_Why_ do I want to punch myself?"

"Well, at least you admit you're wrong" Malik stated calmly but Altaïr could hear a little sarcasm in his tone but he deserved it. The dai noticed Vivian reappear at the bottom of the stairs with her book in hand, tucked behind her back as if it was an item that brought immediate shame. Usually, she kept it by her hips or against her chest to show her carefree joy in her work but that was a behavioral sign he took into mind. Altaïr sulked in his spot as the man shot him a heated glare but the assassin failed to see his other companion as his backside faced her. She took notice of them as she crossed the room, her gaze faltering for a moment on the two before focusing past them. With haste, she scuttled past the tables to head to the open kitchen where cooks made the meals for paying patrons.

"Could I use this?" Vivian asked politely in regards to an open fire that wasn't cooking anything at all and a plan had sparked in her mind. The cook turned around to pay attention and she motioned that she wanted to use the papers for kindling since it would help to keep the fire burning. After a nod of agreement, she gazed at her sketches with disappointment since she'd really loved the assassin robes and the Valley of the Kings. Were they really bad? A reminder that there had to be sacrifices to flourish one's true potential encouraged her to start from scratch and she began tearing each page into squares for safer burning. Nobody could ever know they were there at all and Altaïr didn't like her art so what would be the use of keeping them for him to have? She had hoped to give one to him as a farewell gift before setting off to Madagascar as a souvenir of their time together but she'd have to restart everything.

"I didn't know they allowed Vivian to cook" Malik stated with light surprise as he spotted her with his peripheral vision at the kitchen station. Altaïr, however, realized what she was truly doing (that insane but brave little badger) and refrained from bonking his friend over the head with his own rolled up papers. He had no doubt the dai would beat him down with one of his scrolls for being struck for no absolute reason.

Altaïr caught a better angle of his companion when he turned around and watched her throw shreds of paper into the fire. Did she-? Were those-? He stood up with graceful haste to cross the distance with all the speed he could muster, avoiding people on their way to the tables, and spotted shreds of burning paper with familiar outlines he'd just seen. Had she seriously burned her work at his opinion? Didn't she know better than to listen to his fussing by now? His pace quickened to reach her just as she finished dropping the last two squares over the others that had already been consumed into gray ash. She caught sight of his stark white robes as he carried his own wind current with the swift pace he'd set and turned to face him with a calm face that eerily reminded him of his own in the past.

"You'll be happy to know I rid myself of my bad sketches and will find something new to sketch on" she informed quietly as she tucked her book behind her back to exit the inn for a breath of fresh air. After throwing away months of work, she deserved a few minutes to ponder where she'd done wrong since her humorous caricatures looked worse than her portraits and hoped she wasn't a travesty with her little piece of charcoal.

Altaïr could only grasp into the glowing fire to fetch the last small shred of paper that held part of his hood from the robe design page. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him and his fingers weren't fast enough to douse the burning embers that finished turning the rest of the shredded paper into crinkled soot. Ashes covered his fingers as the leftover heat from the fire stung his fingertips but he was certain it had to hurt the artist worse at having to cast the work aside in such a fashion. Part of him was surprised she'd simply burned them without hesitation but he'd constantly lectured her that adaptation and sacrifice was necessary to chisel the best out of each individual. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she listened to him with an open mind to incorporate his teachings as she saw him as a mentor to her life in his world.

In its own ironic way, he was an artist himself but had skewered his creation horribly with negative feedback.

* * *

Vivian had walked down the path of the inn to the lake's shore, sitting down on the cushiony grass to chuck small pebbles into the water. Most sunk horribly on the first throw but a few managed to skip over the water, giving her hope that her aim would better. She'd sorted through the pages of remaining non-Altaïr sketches since traveling and could see that her outlining needed work since there were instances where she drew too many light lines to define a form's shape. Altaïr's words had forced her to meticulously pick through each page to find where she'd gone wrong but all she could do was practice until her work improved.

It had hurt to throw away her drawings after working faithfully on each for weeks from memory alone. Who else could outline the impassive assassin and live to tell the tale? If he hadn't liked them and gave her concrete reasons to be better, why would she want to be reminded of failed attempts? She would rather start from scratch than see his face in her book and be reminded of . . . ugh, she was connecting emotionally with him. Why did that man's face bring a surge of affectionate warmth every time she thought of him? It became harder every day to think of him with beaver teeth and a classic villain's mustache to lower that rising attraction.

_I can't, I promised I wouldn't fall into that Sue trap but the reality is-_, she thought worriedly to her new conundrum as the days had begun to shine a new light on Altaïr. His natural grumpiness and scowling face no longer matched that of a regular companion as their growing socialization only served to bridge them closer as friends. Her poor heart had unfortunately been caught in that whirlpool to be hurled into the affectionate territory she'd been dreading for quite a while. What kind of faithful sidekick just-

"You care about him, don't you?" Malik's voice interrupted her frantic thoughts as she failed to notice his approach and cursed becoming blind to her surroundings. What had Altaïr strictly taught her from day one? _Always_ keep vigilant! Her confidence for the day plummeted to the deepest sea level at being caught unaware as well. His question knocked her aback since she'd been trying her best to be amicable to the master assassin for the last three weeks without letting her true emotions slip. The dai sat down next to her on the grass as he caught a flicker of a somber glint in her eyes and spoke gently, "It's not safe out here with the type of people bustling through the land. If you wanted to be outright with your feelings, I think cleaning his weapons or telling him directly would've done it."

"How-" she began to ask on his acute perceptiveness as he managed to mentally dissect most people in minutes. Altaïr would verbally or physically assault you to find everything that he needed while Malik merely needed to observe and speak to a person to gain a glimpse into the inner workings of their mind. If he knew, she could only wonder if Altaïr himself had any inkling of what she actually felt for him. There was no room for feelings like hers on their mission, not to mention the time frame itself, and shook her head vehemently to sputter anxiously, "N-No, I don't want him to know anything at all. Never! This is just ridiculous feminine admiration that will pass-"

"No, I saw that many months ago when we left Giza but lately, I've sensed the shift" he explained matter-of-factly since he'd been observing her recent behavior and she groaned at being so transparent to the dai. This was one of those times when she wished to have assassin skills of stealth. She could deal with her friend knowing the truth but if Altaïr figured it out . . . she'd better find a bomb shelter before the super volcano blew his top. Malik, being the kind brother figure that he was, merely advised her to calm the worries plaguing her heart from the previous altercation, "You would've cast aside a remark like today's by ignoring him for a few days rather than chasing him with the same insults like you used to. Instead, you took those words to heart by removing what wasn't to his liking as you try to gain approval and connect to his way of thought."

His next words brought the point home that she was her own person and not a yipping loyal dog as he reminded gently, "You're not Altaïr or a student of his- you're Vivian. A smart woman that would've realized her drawings kicked his into whatever depth this lake is and that your main concern is _you_- not his opinion, which is questionable at best today."

"I'm almost afraid to ask if he knows because he can't" she whispered worriedly as his words cheered her up but wringed her fingers together at having her little secret discovered. She was never very good at lying about herself despite managing to do just fine with her false personas and poked the soft dirt under her fingertips. The small blades of grass tickled her skin and the sensation was quick to trigger memories of Altaïr's own fingers trailing over her palm. Each rough callous had sent her heart down her stomach with cartwheels of glee as he had accepted that personal space breach with no complaint. Darn it, why couldn't he have made her scram with his glower power instead? Grouchy Altaïr would've plummeted her feelings to the ground but the friendlier Altaïr of late did nothing except to increase them.

Regardless of her growing affection, she pushed herself to maintain a respectful platonic image and couldn't bear Altaïr knowing that secret. She could only trust in Malik to keep it hidden further and called on all of the good brownie points she'd earned since arriving to plead earnestly, "I don't want him to know how this affected me today and I need you to keep all of this to yourself. It is dangerous if he ever suspects anything is amiss because I'm pushing against time itself to keep his path straight without curves. I will always be his friend and my loyalty will be known for that only, _nothing_ else. I just . . . I guess I wanted a little validation in my skills to show I'm not entirely useless . . . there are days that I feel I am."

She brushed away stray tears from her eyes since being the only one without fighting skills had been bearable at first but it had slowly picked away at her confidence. She was a normal human being that carried nothing special within her and being a female of this time barred her from most liberties offered to men. Altaïr had taught her with great patience (and that was saying something) to increase her mediocre skills and she did treasure him for it, especially when he no longer stomped off to yell about 'crazy realm traveling badgers'. The back-and-forth motion of the blue water lapping at the shore reminded her of steering clear from the assassin whose life she could inadvertently alter and murmured with disappointment, "And I'm angry at myself for thinking of him in that way when I know it's the most stupid thing to do. It's bad enough I'm here disrupting the normal flow of his life but now I have to shield myself even more emotionally. How am I supposed to resolve this internal conflict? How can I keep him from ever finding out as we keep traveling? Oh, how I want to kick myself."

Malik had never comforted women since another fellow woman was best for matters of the heart so he did what an uncertain dai would do. He patted her awkwardly on the back like he would've done with Kadar when his little brother sought advice and the kind gesture brought a weak laugh from between her crying. He'd never witnessed her shed a tear since meeting as she covered her distress with laughter as a shield but a heartwarming voice followed her sniffling, "And here I am putting you in the most awkward spot possible. I don't even like crying- ugh, I look like a shriveled fruit with liquid gushing out everywhere. This is why I avoid emotional conflict or situations- it makes you feel incredibly lousy."

"You make a good man, Vivian" he encouraged with a kind smile to allow her the comfort of crying because it definitely wasn't pretty but helped soothe a heart. Still, he was her friend and would be there when she needed him because she was the one that offered support when he or Altaïr weren't at their best. She didn't ask for much as she traveled alongside them but he would shelter her like any watchful brother and tried to hearten her spirit, "You don't have to rank up to our level because you've grown in your own way and still are. It's perfectly normal to feel conflicted about love since we're all human and prone to stupid mistakes. We learn from them and grow- keep to your art though, he wouldn't find it if it bit him on the foot."

"He is bad, isn't he?" she chuckled softly with a nasally tone as she pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose into it. The sight wasn't a pretty one with her red nose that resembled Rudolph's but felt better after releasing that bomb of emotions. It had been incredibly hard to deny her fond affection as the days slowly rolled by but she considered herself blessed for having a great friend in Malik. She might not have the love of her sisters anymore in 1193 but she had the next best thing in an adoptive brother and admitted earnestly, "Thank you for listening to me, even when you didn't have to. It's just that this whole search has put Altaïr on such an alert mode that it seems he's not the man I knew in the past month."

She shouldn't be moping about the recent past since the assassin had a life outside of exploring the wilderness with her. Still, she'd enjoyed each moment alongside him as it offered glimpses into the man he was rather than the assassin and felt privileged to catch each. Who could say they'd watched him run off from mere pigeons that had landed too closely for comfort? Or watched him curse the heavens when he stepped into a puddle of mud right outside of his tent? Her shoulders slumped as those memories seemed long ago when she stood next to the relentless man now on a hunt for the POE and sighed softly, "He laughed with me when I made jokes he liked and he doesn't anymore- if anything, we're fighting like cats and dogs. Neither of us likes that and it's enough to earn you the Nobel peace prize as you bear through it all."

"I'm going to assume it's an honorable gift" the dai commented warmly since he deserved a jewel encrusted gold medal for all of the parenting and common sense he knocked into the two. They were barely halfway into their journey and Malik had learned enough to write a book on parenting to hand out to new assassin parents when he returned to Masyaf. He could only hope this would be the only adventure in which he'd be lecturing Altaïr because he didn't have it in him to continue it into another generation. Vivian wiped away the last lingering tear from the inner duct of her left eye as she chuckled to his lighthearted mood and he gave one last piece of advice, "Give him time and focus on your own goals."

"It's a bit hard when my way home is tied to his journey" she admitted sullenly to the hand she'd been dealt in life but smiled weakly for the support. When life gave you lemons, make lemonade, right? Hopefully, she wouldn't keep making lemonade for too long or she'd have a brand called 'Vivian's Own' by the end of her travels. She smiled with gratitude for her friend's caring nature and returned the same by stating softly, "We really are lucky to have you and he'll be safe in this world with you keeping him on the right path."

. . . _when I'm gone_, she thought somberly to the part she was beginning to dread.

* * *

Malik cursed having to play father bear to the two, especially when it meant being locked him outside the room for a few hours. He didn't like the land but it was safer inside the inn than outside so he would bear it. Also, when Hurricane Vivian and Altaïr met, they had a tendency to merge into a dangerous super storm or die like a tornado out of fuel. He'd endured both outside of Giza when Altaïr had emotionally damaged Vivian enough to bring out her true ferocity but they had come out better people from it. With Altaïr being borderline obsessive to find the piece of Eden, he could quickly forget his sympathy and return to the same behavior from a year before- even worse, three years ago.

For now, all he could do was bunker down and wait for the storm to end.

Upstairs, Vivian had switched her bedding to Malik's side to leave Altaïr at the end rather than the protective middle. Normally, he wouldn't care since he could protect anybody at any angle but the fact that she was physically moving away from _him_ struck a chord. He had lingered downstairs as he found ways to form a decent apology that wouldn't leave them starting their friendship all over again while she'd returned to their room. His plan for giving that heartfelt apology didn't start off well when he saw her fixing her blankets in her new spot because he wanted her by his side. What could Malik offer that he couldn't? She'd always slept by his side, even when she fixed her tent in camp, so they could speak together before blowing out the candles.

Instead of reciting a well-versed apology in a smooth voice, it was shot down the outhouse's pooping hole to make way for a raw realistic admission.

"Vivian, I am most apologetic to know you did that to your drawings" he confessed wholeheartedly as he shot to her side as she smoothed down blankets and wished he really could kick his own ass right about now. Why was it so hard to ignore the instinctive voice that told him to protect himself rather endure hurt? He hadn't wanted to deflect that damage and deal the barrage onto Vivian, who never intended any harm towards him. He waved his hands in an attempt to make that whole incident disappear so she wouldn't leave him and stated hastily, "Don't listen to anything I say from now on, about art anyway. You draw beautifully-"

"Then why say those things?" she questioned curtly since she was trying to figure out _why_ he said them in the first place. Malik had simply stated the man had put his foot in his mouth but never delved deeper as to why he did that. Her fingers wrung the sheet she was trying to smooth out because she hadn't been fond of burning her sketches- especially for no good reason!

"I'm weak and petty?" he offered casually to slide his way out of the argument but it only served to rile her fury. Her narrowed eyes told him he was walking through a rocky road filled with lava that threatened to engulf him if he didn't tread carefully. She had a right to be mad, especially if Malik had told her the truth (which he was 99.9% sure of), and raised a hand in peace to calmly reason with her, "Vivian, I'm the type of man that will never live a common life and emotions stirred out of generous gifts have me behaving erratically. It's something I've never faced before. I'm never going to laugh with joy or leap to hug someone like some men might do and what I did was something I've been accustomed to doing since childhood. Attachments have always been seen as setbacks but you're not, believe me when I say so, yet my mouth tends to act faster than my brain."

"_That_ one, I do believe" she muttered dryly since he did say some ridiculous things that made her blink in confusion sometimes. Wasn't she supposed to be the wacky erratic one? Taking his earnest words to mind, however, did remind her that he wasn't the average man and wouldn't react the same on the most simplest of situations. He would never be entirely open with her, especially since they'd only known each other for a little over a year, and maybe certain scenarios did unnerve him. That still didn't mean he couldn't learn and she offered alternative routes he could've taken as she pointed out wryly, "A simple 'you did well' or your classic 'huh' would've sufficed. What am I supposed to do now that I threw my drawings away for absolutely nothing? I have half a mind to kick you in the crotch and kick in your kidneys when you're down."

"Again, the mouth and mind run on two different roads with me" he pointed out his faults because he did _not_ want to be kicked in that specific area anytime soon. Vivian frowned to his reasoning since it was still enough to earn an ass kicking of epic proportion- even though in reality, she'd be a tiny fly against a brick wall. There was no point in arguing since he clearly acknowledged he was in the wrong but needed to atone for his mistake before he caused an unexpected wedge between them. He could already see it as she tried to leave his sleeping area to settle elsewhere but he was having none of that because her place was beside him. Altaïr didn't exactly know how that became a regular occurrence but he knew that the obstinate little badger wasn't leaving him alone anytime soon. The loneliness could be suffocating now that he grew to enjoy his interactions with her and offered a chance to wipe the slate clean, "You may draw me as much as you wish and once we're out of Lake Victoria, I will willingly pose for you if I need to. Don't listen to my jabbering about art, I'm cranky whenever I don't find a lead."

"Even if I demand you naked in a creek?" she smirked playfully to the idea of toying with hilarious poses to exact a little revenge. What AC fan would deny that opportunity? Testing his limitations was always amusing to witness, especially when he contorted his facial muscles into anything but his permanent frown. Altaïr set his lips in a thin line to the preposterous, not to mention scandalous, image of doing so for her ego's benefit and narrowed his eyes.

"Vivian, I am apologetic but not insane" he declined firmly since he'd probably give her ammunition to spread in her time about him. Hadn't she learned that everything from her time embarrassed him? Add the fact that he was sexual eye candy for others and that made it ten times worse if he allowed her to do such a thing. That wasn't to say he'd allow it in the first place because he was incredibly private with his life, much more with his body. He crossed his arms as he sniffed the air with disdain to her ridiculous request and stated snippily with a raised chin, "The last thing I need is your picture being passed around by my crazy admirers' centuries after I'm gone."

"Oh, you'd be surprised what they draw on you or should I say, the lack of" she implied impishly to the images she'd seen floating around the internet and his face fell with horrified dismay. There were drawings of him in that, ahem, manner? Did people hold _no_ shame for his privacy? How did they even dare to guess what he looked like under his robes? If they'd gotten one single thing wrong, he would find a way to make them all pay through Vivian's crafty mind when she returned home. Nobody insulted Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad and lived to tell the tale- no matter the dimension.

When her cheeks turned pink from the images that had floored her (in some instances, scared her) in deviantart and tumblr, he knew it had to be mature content. Somehow, the little badger appeared capable of viewing such adulterated things and he was almost inclined to ask whether it had been tasteful. He didn't know whether having her picture him naked was a harmless thing because she knew him at the least but the idea sparked that familiar tingle in his chest. He forced himself to ignore that pesky sensation for the sake of his sanity (and her friendship) and snapped hastily to end that goofy little grin on her face, "Stop that and get my naked image out of your head."

"It's _my_ brain and it holds a free country called Imagination Land" she disagreed swiftly and kept the cheeky smile plastered on since he would be gone for centuries in her own time. It wasn't something she liked to think about after bonding with him and Malik for a year but leaving them would be painful after the adventures they shared. She would miss the moments when they quarreled the most since he challenged her in every way possible and she thrived on it- even loved it! His offer had satiated the pain of burning her sketches somewhat and the turn of their conversation was flustering him slowly, which she particularly enjoyed.

"This is not how I expected this conversation to go, you lecherous creature" he stated flatly with a frown to her wordplay but hoped they'd reach an understanding. He didn't want to argue nor hurt her further since he cherished her companionship . . . if only he could ever admit it.

"You should stop expecting with me, I'm pretty random" she replied haughtily with a wag of her eyebrows and leaned on the balls of her feet to emphasize her quirkiness. He didn't doubt that for one second but it was an inner bravery that allowed her to pursue him into danger and he admired that trait. If she were random without bravery, she'd be cowering at every turn and whining about never being protected. Instead, she treaded into danger with her growing set of skills and he would be there to see her wield a weapon as she filled those shoes of valor that she'd sought from the very beginning. She pointed an index finger towards his face with glee shining in her green eyes and declared triumphantly, "You owe me for those long hours of drawing and you shall be my personal art puppet when we leave here."

"I don't remember saying puppet-" he disagreed quickly since being unwillingly controlled was not the best feeling in the world after his experience fighting Al Mualim. Vivian, however, wasn't hearing it and waved her hands because she was having her way today- not the other way around.

"You will do _my_ bidding and will be my pillow when I say so, starting tonight" she smiled confidently since she finally attained a small grain of power and would seize every advantage with it. Who else could ever hope to have the same with the assassin? She was a simple girl from Berkeley cast back in time, or even an alternate parallel reality (which grew more likely as she traveled), and her joy came from merely being in his presence. Whether he was grumpy or relaxed, Vivian loved each moment they shared and hoped to add more to her growing bundle of memories to take home with her.

He gave her a deadpan stare since he didn't like being a mattress for anyone and snapped with offense, "You're abusing your power by trying to have your way with me."

She burst into amused laughter to his glum comment, not to mention the words, and the fact he'd interpreted her words for something sexual. Did he really think she'd sneak her hands inside his clothes or force him into doing something uncomfortable? She had plenty of dignity and self-respect to never do such a thing to her friend but found humor in the fact he attempted dry wit. His face resembled a grumpy child that had been told they were going to the dentist and she chided gently, "You're so melodramatic and I've told you many times that you're like a porcupine, which is why only Maria wants you."

He was offended by that since her constant prattle about him having fans equaled romantic admiration and more. Why was she not flowing into that boat? . . . Not that he cared if she did. His confidence as a man was easily rattled by Vivian nowadays and in order to maintain that control, demanded indignantly, "How dare you belittle my attractiveness?"

"So now you want me in your pants? Is that what you're saying?" she drawled with amusement to his flustered expression since he was jumping all over the place with his comments. Oh, how she thrived going toe-to-toe with him on this verbal dance. She placed her hands on her hips to display her control over the conversation and smiled impishly to preen slyly, "You're a very contradicting man, you know?"

"You . . . I . . . hush" he ordered swiftly as he lost control of the conversation entirely and decided to shut up before he dug himself into a bigger ditch. The victory flag had been handed to the witty badger and he would not contend it to prevent another firestorm. He was satisfied that he'd brought a sincere smile of amusement from the entire discussion since having her scream at him would've been worse. After facing that infuriated side of her outside Giza, he never wanted to meet that Vivian again and sighed to concede, "We're ending this with my honest apology and your acceptance like two ordinary people."

"We're not exactly ordinary" she stated quietly but at seeing his desperation to avoid further embarrassment, she relented. The man appeared to have gone through enough mental threshing at her fingertips and deserved a break for today at least. Tomorrow was another day and with him under her thumb for a little while, nothing was unattainable. She lowered her arms to her sides to show that the air had been cleared between them and offered a small smile, "But all right."

He was gloriously relieved at that because he wanted to avoid any more fighting and she added in matter-of-factly, "I will have your cheese tomorrow."

"Is that a euphemism?" he asked uncertainly since any word nowadays could be interpreted for something else. After experiencing the uncomfortable warmth in his chest around Vivian, he was not going to risk making a mistake that could surprise or irk her.

She batted his forearm for the cheap shot and replied quickly with the truth, "No! I want your cheese from our meals- it's quite good."

"But _I_ like cheese" he muttered despondently to his lost cheese but if it kept her happy for a day, fine. It wasn't every day that he handed over his food to anybody but Vivian's never-ending appetite would at least cherish every last morsel. After all, he'd witnessed her eat wheels of cheese from bandits they'd chased out into the Egyptian desert. His days in Lake Victoria had brought chagrin to his determined personality as an assassin but as a man, he didn't want any of that projected onto Vivian. He feigned a look of disapproval for having to relinquish his food to maintain his grumpy aura but allowed with a low murmur, "Only for you."

She smiled to having her olive branch accepted but peered at him to admit softly with seriousness, "I don't like it when we fight. There's already enough violence in this world without us adding more to it."

"Neither do I" he replied earnestly with a small sigh and gripped her shoulders to offer a sympathetic squeeze. He hoped their time at Lake Victoria wouldn't serve to cause a dent in their friendship but it seemed his search and internal conflicts were waiting to resurface for a backlash. Vivian smiled softly to his agreement since fighting had been a serious problem of the past for them that neither wanted to return to. His thumbs could feel the swell of her clavicle bones as he encased her shoulders and attempted to sway her back to her old sleeping spot, "Will you . . .?"

He didn't how to word it exactly without appearing dependent on her or implying anything sexual from the request. It wasn't something he normally asked of women! She decided to let him struggle on requesting her presence next to him since she wouldn't be the one following him this time. Her eyes didn't betray a thing as she played the innocent card and Altaïr sucked his pride to benefit his own heart, finishing with a modest tone, "Will you- don't laugh when I ask- sleep beside me again? I like your company, especially because you don't hit me like Malik."

"He doesn't hit me" she pointed out slyly since he only whacked Altaïr when he was out of line or insane in his ramblings. He narrowed his eyes because she knew damn well the dai wouldn't lay a finger on her due to his honorable code but he was free game. She looked to her newly fixed bed on the floor and the spot felt strange to her after weeks of sleeping beside the impertinent assassin. Most normal people would've taken the spot next to the dai for their sanity but Altaïr kept luring her like a little moth and answered evenly, "I will stay but only if you give me the same respect I grant you."

"I'd never give you any less" he assured kindly since they were on equal ground now that they were a team and would only lecture her skills as a mentor. As a woman, she appreciated it even more since it was hard enough to bear being belittled everywhere she went. She'd repeatedly sought to gain an ounce from respect from the awesome assassin and now that she had it . . . oh, she could just burst!

Unfortunately, those words would be his worst lie by the end of the week and he'd regret the entire incident that shattered it.

* * *

While Altaïr and Vivian scribbled in their journals for the night, Malik had told the two he'd be taking a small stroll around the inn. For the first time, he'd lied to his friends since interfering in the affairs of others wasn't an assassin's place but Malik was beckoned to this. He did not condone the ownership of human beings for work labor or pleasure and ever since arriving in Lake Victoria, it had created a knot of distaste in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't want to risk his friends' involvement if his idea went awry since the main mission came first as Altaïr put it. If he happened to be caught, he would need to find a way to free himself but his main concern was freeing the poor people that were being sold off like cattle. Sneaking into the western camp of slaver owners hadn't been particularly hard with his mastered skills but maneuvering through the area brought a hindrance to his speed. He needed to find where the slaves were being held because he was certain they weren't in the large comfortable makeshift tents littering the area or the ships docked on the western platforms over the lake. Campfires glowed with their embers throughout each encampment and it allowed Malik a better view of the area as he used tents and parked wagons as camouflage.

When he finally found the first location where the slaves were kept, Malik fought the urge to stab the nearest tent in fury for the shoddy conditions. He'd seen numerous people either in shackles or in cages during the day as they were held for auction for prospective buyers and it didn't change when night arrived. The glow of the fires were enough to give him a glimpse as they huddled together for warmth in the back of the rusty cages and he couldn't imagine a worse treatment in the world for his fellow man. How could people stomach such horrible treatment of sentient beings- their own _species_? It was behavior like this that allowed the Templars to build upon their foundations of bringing their entire people to one mindset to impose peace.

While their owners slept in warm tents, their merchandise was left to the elements but Malik wouldn't allow that. He might have one arm but he'd make the best of that limb to open their door to usher them to freedom. He tried to find the opening for the metal door with the aid of the nearby firelight as his fingers trailed over the cold iron bars until they struck something.

A lock.

He knew this wouldn't be his easiest vigilante mission and fished into the left pocket of his robes to find his lock picking tools. When he had use of both his arms, he'd been quite the lock picker and was chosen often for missions that required a stealthy hand. Not even Altaïr himself could beat the dai when it came to unlocking complex locks. He might only have one hand but his fingers were dexterous enough to fiddle with lock's key hole as he pressed the heavy lock against the bar for easier maneuvering.

Fiddling with the lock masked some of the noise around him as he tried to keep vigilant of his surroundings. The half-moon above him shed light over the dark land as the fires crackled softly and Malik tried his earnest to pop open the lock while everyone slept on. Even the slaves barely stirred from their sleep but Malik didn't doubt they were malnourished and exhausted from being corralled around platforms to be sold. His resolve to see them free fueled his fingers to prod the sharp metal pin tool into place since he couldn't use his other hand with another tool to make it faster. How he longed for the days when he could unlock a door within thirty seconds.

It was hard to see in the darkness and used his years of training to maneuver his tool within the lock, focusing his attention solely on the lock. Should he have brought one of the others to keep watch? Probably . . . but he couldn't risk their lives in this because he knew Vivian would've hopped onboard instantly. He smiled with success when he was rewarded with a light 'click' and as he moved to remove it from the iron cage, heard the footsteps that had been obscured during the lock piking.

"What do we have here? A slave thief?"

Damn.

It would be a long cold night for Malik since killing the men would wake the entire camp and he couldn't fend them all off by himself. If he tried and escaped, they would scour the entire lake looking for him and it could trail back to his friends- which he couldn't allow. This was one battle he was forced to concede with regret and by morning, his companions would be on a desperate search to find him.

* * *

**A/N**: And we begin to see the light hints of obsessiveness with the pieces of Eden that stuck to Altaïr as seen in Revelations with the Apple, not to mention the short temper that needs to be leashed. Of course, poor Vivian tries her best to rein him in and it will backfire horribly in either the next chapter or the one after next (depends where I cut it off). As for Malik, _lostwithoutdoubt_'s idea was perfect to use to bring Altaïr and Vivian closer as a unit so we'll see their rescue of their dear friend. Prepare to see Vivian as the negotiator while Malik hopes he won't be shipped off past the Indian ocean.

_Hanane EL Mokkadem_: Thanks, they'll be getting together much later in Mozambique but that's not to say the two won't be showing the affection that's growing between them. ;)

_BroSkylar_: I did take longer with the last chapter post due to work (can't believe I worked a week straight) but my schedule is clearer now. Thank you for being obsessed with the story, I try to make it as long as I can with each chapter.

_WhatTheCensoredXD_: Vivian is a hilarious little badger and as I began work on the sequel, I love the new humor I can make of her new life as she changes roles from Altaïr's friend to something permanent.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: You totally gave the idea for the end of this chapter! It's a perfect event to show how Altaïr and Vivian can work as an efficient team since each member of the team has to be as strong as the other to maintain balance. The internal struggles of their feelings will definitely be a problem since Vivian fears altering his future since her presence isn't exactly normal and the fact that she will be returning home by the end of the story. However, as we all know, Altaïr isn't a quitter.

_Anonomon_: Thank you for loving the chapter!

_xVentressx_: Something is definitely stirring between them. Lol

_yarotaro_: Thank you so much, I was re-reading the story this week and I've seen subtle changes from spelling in earlier chapters and longer sentence structure. Despite it all, I couldn't stop laughing at some of the jokes I'd forgotten throughout the entire 30+ chapter ride.

_KrnYong_: Altaïr has been a character that pushes himself to the max and I liked seeing him reflect on that when he was 90 because the world will always need help and he can't do it all alone. He will definitely become ill in the story around Mali, I believe, so we'll see Vivian and Malik bearing with him. I think we'd all like to implode into a miniature black hole if we were placed in Vivian's position and in earlier chapters, she didn't hesitate to voice her embarrassment or run off (and she hadn't even touched him yet- lol). As she's grown to adapt his similar ability to mask his emotions and their growing comfort level, it definitely has allowed her to think before she acts. It will be coming in handy when Altaïr makes the first move to shift their relationship to the next stage.

_Tachibana Natsu_: I'm glad you love the updates!

_Devicorn_: Thanks so much for loving the story and thinking it a diamond between the coals. I'm glad you like the characterizations for the canon and OC characters since I definitely try my best to keep them in line. Altaïr is quite the grumpy Gus and I've definitely read stories where an OC manages to change him within the week, which I don't see as possible unless they're trapped together for every minute of every hour, and it's usually for the worst. For a man like Altaïr, a careful hand is needed and I love using Vivian's quirkiness and Malik's levelheadedness to steer him on that road to wisdom. I will definitely be using your 'Under the Sea' idea (possibly in the next chapter if the length isn't too long) and made up the song yesterday. Lol. I'm glad you like the Altaïr/Vivian romance since I didn't expect readers to like it since he is canon with Maria but hey, I'm working in an AU parallel universe. Don't worry, they will still be quite adorable throughout the story since they won't be overly sappy to make readers cringe.

* * *

**Next Time**: _To Save a Dai and Master in One Week_

The first rays of sunlight shed the navy blanket with diamond stars away from the land to shroud the horizon in its lilac-grey of early sunrise. Vivian sat up in her bed as the blankets lay crumpled around her waist and she wiped her dry eyes from the lack of sleep the night before. She had been waiting for Malik to return when he failed to do so after two hours on his walk around the inn and sensed something was wrong. Malik Al-Sayf was a man that was perfectly punctual with everything he did and organized to a point that drove Altaïr mad since he was more of a messy Bessie. Altaïr had gone to bed after the first hour rolled by and she allowed it since he had barely slept at all recently but promised to wake him if anything changed.

When the second hour passed by, she woke the assassin to voice her concerns since Malik always returned on time and wondered what could've happened. Altaïr wasted no time in changing into his robes but Vivian had to call him back in his half-sleepy state so he could switch his slippers for his boots (no assassin could live that embarrassment down). He had searched the area for an hour with his eagle vision and had called for Malik in case his friend had fallen somewhere but he found nothing. His friend was a good assassin in leaving no tracks to be followed and Altaïr worried whether his friend had fallen to harm or that he'd gone and done something without alerting them.

It didn't help any that Vivian was worried out of her mind by the time he returned and told her they would have to wait until sunrise to begin a search. Malik had left no tracks to be followed and Altaïr didn't know where to begin to look for him. Clues would be easier to find in the daylight and he could investigate to see whether residents had noticed anything amiss. He had urged Vivian to sleep while he took a shift to keep watch but she refused, prompting him to regain the lost hours of sleep from the past days. Vivian was a hard woman to budge when she was determined and he abided to give his body rest while she'd settled down beside him to sit.

With the sky slowly shifting color, Vivian gently roused her friend from slumber by shaking his shoulder. Altaïr had been sleep deprived to the point that he'd snored the entire night away and she moved him by the shoulder as he lay sprawled on his stomach to rip him away from dreamland. If she carried his tracking and investigating skills, she would've headed out on her own but that would've only worried the man further. There was no point in having two lost companions and Vivian waited until he grunted in complaint to being woken since she wanted him to wake peacefully.

Her hand stroked the top of his brown hair and she murmured softly, "I know, I know, but it's the early dawn now."

Altaïr opened his eyes back to reality as his five hour sleep felt more like a nap and shifted to his side to wipe his eyes to sharpen his vision. The previous night flooded back into his mind and quickly blinked to see whether Malik had returned to their bedroom. If he had, maybe-

Vivian's face held under eye circles and her continuous yawning into her right hand told her that nothing had changed at all. Had she really let him sleep through the entire night without rest for herself? He sighed softly as she deprived herself of rest on his behalf, grasping her left hand as it rested beside his forearm. The room felt incredibly lonely without their group together as one and he squeezed her hand to ask with a low voice, "Vivian, why didn't you-"

"You needed to sleep. . .and I wanted to be here in case he returned" she murmured softly as her shoulders slumped to give her a meek appearance. The usual cheer was gone from her face as the worry and lack of sleep took its toll on her body. She wanted her friend back safe and sound, whispering sullenly, "We have to find him, Altaïr."

Her crestfallen face and tone only served to pull at his heartstrings since he wanted her face to have that usual dopey smile of hers. He sat up to remove the rest of the lingering sleep away from his mind and with Vivian being in close proximity, imitated an action he'd seen when wandering troubled towns.

He drew her to his shoulder with one arm to provide the same emotional support she'd offered him when he needed it. Her green eyes widened with shock since he'd never broken their personal boundaries to this point but she relaxed in his grip to show she trusted him as well. She could feel his faint heartbeat against the back of her hands as they were wedged between them and the curve of her nose fit perfectly against the crook of his bare neck. Body warmth was an immediate soothing effect to her distress and she melted against it as he remained quiet to dissipate her fears.

Altaïr wasn't exactly sure if it would work since he'd never done so with another person in his life. Normal human interactions that provided sympathy or support were often lost to him due to his upbringing and he found himself studying the behavior of mankind to guide him on how to bring those dynamics into his new life. He hoped the action had brought Vivian a sense of peace as he watched her curled up against him and a faint smile crossed his lips to their close proximity. Physical touch was indeed a sense of comfort, especially between trusted individuals, and he began to understand why people performed that action. He'd seen people hug too but it crossed all physical boundaries and Altaïr wasn't ready to do that with anyone just yet.

"Let's find Malik, shall we?" he asked softly after a few moments but Vivian didn't answer at all, causing him to look down. Her shallow breathing tickled his skin as she lay huddled against him but his small companion had fallen asleep against him. It appeared she had been more exhausted than she cared to admit and he murmured fondly, "You are a tenacious little badger."

* * *

_Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter. What will happen to Malik? Will the trio be broken? Who will save the day?_


	35. To Save a Dai and Master in One Day

**Music Inspiration**: Tom Tykwer- _"Prelude: The Atlas March"_ (for the minor Altaïr/Vivian fluff) and Two Steps from Hell- _"Icarus"_

* * *

**To Save a Dai and Master in One Week_  
_**

* * *

The first rays of sunlight shed the navy blanket with diamond stars away from the land to shroud the horizon in its lilac-grey of early sunrise. Vivian sat up in her bed as the blankets lay crumpled around her waist and she wiped her dry eyes from the lack of sleep the night before. She had been waiting for Malik to return when he failed to do so after two hours on his walk around the inn and sensed something was wrong. Malik Al-Sayf was a man that was perfectly punctual with everything he did and organized to a point that drove Altaïr mad since he was more of a messy Bessie. Altaïr had gone to bed after the first hour rolled by and she allowed it since he had barely slept at all recently but promised to wake him if anything changed.

When the second hour passed by, she woke the assassin to voice her concerns since Malik always returned on time and wondered what could've happened. Altaïr wasted no time in changing into his robes but Vivian had to call him back in his half-sleepy state so he could switch his slippers for his boots (no assassin could live _that_ embarrassment down). He had searched the dark land for an hour with his eagle vision and had called for Malik in case his friend had fallen somewhere but he found nothing. His friend was a good assassin in leaving no tracks to be followed and Altaïr worried whether his friend had fallen to harm or that he'd gone and done something without alerting them.

It didn't help any that Vivian was worried out of her mind by the time he returned and told her they would have to wait until sunrise to begin a search. Malik had left no tracks to be followed and Altaïr didn't know where to begin to look for him. Clues would be easier to find in the daylight and he could investigate to see whether residents had noticed anything amiss. He had urged Vivian to sleep while he took a shift to keep watch but she refused, prompting him to regain the lost hours of sleep from the past days. Vivian was a hard woman to budge when she was determined and he abided to give his body rest while she'd settled down beside him to sit. While he slept soundly, she would be his eyes in case their friend returned.

With the sky slowly shifting color to bring a new day forth, Vivian gently roused her friend from slumber by shaking his left shoulder. Altaïr had been sleep deprived to the point that he'd snored the entire night away and she moved him by the shoulder as he lay sprawled on his stomach to rip him away from dreamland. If she carried his tracking and investigating skills, she would've headed out on her own but that would've only worried the man further. There was no point in having two lost companions and Vivian waited until he grunted in complaint to being woken since she wanted him to wake peacefully.

Her hand stroked the top of his short brown hair, marveling at how soft it actually was since his calloused hands were the total opposite. His face was void of its stern expression and smooth to show the true youth behind the leader of the assassins and she murmured softly, "I know, I know, but it's the early dawn now."

Altaïr opened his eyes back to reality as his five hour sleep felt more like a nap and shifted to his side to wipe his blurry eyes to sharpen his vision. The previous night flooded back into his mind and he quickly blinked to see whether Malik had returned to their bedroom. If he had, maybe-

Vivian's face held under eye circles and her continuous yawning into her right hand told her that nothing had changed at all. Had she really let him sleep through the entire night without rest for herself? He sighed softly as she deprived herself of sleep on his behalf, grasping her left hand as it rested beside his forearm. The room felt incredibly lonely without their group together as one and he squeezed her hand to ask with a low voice, "Vivian, why didn't you-"

"You needed to sleep . . . and I wanted to be here in case he returned" she murmured softly as her shoulders slumped to give her a meek appearance. Her emotions had been on a roller coaster since the previous day and it wasn't getting any better with this new problem. The usual cheer was gone from her face as the worry and lack of sleep took its toll on her body. She wanted her friend back safe and sound in their small room, whispering sullenly, "We have to find him, Altaïr."

Her crestfallen face and tone only served to pull at his heartstrings since he wanted her face to have that usual dopey smile of hers. He sat up to remove the rest of the lingering sleep away from his mind and with Vivian being in close proximity, imitated an action he'd seen when wandering troubled towns.

He drew her to his shoulder with one arm to provide the same emotional support she'd offered him when he needed it in his weakest of moments. Her green eyes widened with shock since he'd never broken their personal boundaries to this point but she relaxed in his grip to show she trusted him as well. She could feel his faint heartbeat against the back of her hands as they were wedged between them and the curve of her nose fit perfectly against the crook of his bare neck. Body warmth was an immediate soothing effect to her distress and she melted against it as he remained quiet to dissipate her fears. How could she not feel safe against him?

Altaïr wasn't exactly sure if the technique would work since he'd never done so with another person in his life. Normal human interactions that provided sympathy or support were often lost to him due to his upbringing and he found himself studying the behavior of mankind to guide him on how to bring those dynamics into his new life. He hoped the action had brought Vivian a sense of peace as he watched her curled up against him and a faint smile crossed his lips to their close proximity. Did she understand what he meant when words faltered? Did it help? Physical touch was indeed a sense of comfort, especially between trusted individuals, and he began to understand why people performed that action. He'd seen people hug too but it crossed all physical boundaries and Altaïr wasn't ready to do that with anyone just yet.

"Let's find Malik, shall we?" he asked softly after a few moments but Vivian didn't answer at all, causing him to look down with concern. Her shallow breathing tickled his skin as she lay huddled against him but his small companion had fallen asleep against him. It appeared she had been more exhausted than she cared to admit and he murmured fondly, "You are a tenacious little badger."

* * *

The duo had scoured every inch of the inn and the eastern area of the lake to find no visible leads, even when Altaïr took to the rooftops for a better view. Vivian had used her best androgynous voice to ask residents and merchants about her friend but received no clues to his whereabouts. They had searched the entire area up and down until their only choice was to venture to the west on foot through the populated side but neither was eager to encounter unsavory folk. Altaïr couldn't fathom why Malik had simply left without telling them anything important if he intended to do something they wouldn't have approved of. Hadn't he been trustworthy enough? After rebuilding their friendship, he thought they had put any need for secrecy behind them.

Altaïr had never been faced with the possibility of losing one of his friends but he wouldn't rest until he found him. As he stood on the top of a hill overlooking the west side of the lake, he could only wonder what Malik had in mind when he left. Was he pursuing something or someone? Had he left to prevent the trail leading back to him and Vivian? Each question kept piling up into a figurative mountain and he hated feeling powerless in the situation as he failed to pick up a single clue.

"Should we walk together or do you want to scale the buildings on the way?" Vivian asked softly, breaking into his thoughts as she found her way to him. She'd been preparing provisions for the long walk since they wouldn't use the canoe to avoid losing clues. They had long hours of walking ahead of them but after traveling from Masyaf to Lake Victoria, the distance was minute.

"I'd rather not leave you alone after what's happened" he replied with an exhausted tone that was disbelieving to her ears since he was tireless. The man had unbelievable stamina and could stay awake for hours- yet a friend in need brought that heavy weight to mind. Vivian decided not to compromise that she would be careful and provided that safety buoy for him.

She nodded quietly to follow him onwards but he asked curiously with furrowed brows, "No jokes about setting off into the unknown?"

"Not today, it just doesn't feel the same without him" she murmured sadly with a weak smile since she drew cheer from her loyal friends. It was so much easier to have a fun adventure and walk into danger when everyone was together with the same uniting courage.

He couldn't argue with her there and they headed out in silence.

* * *

Malik had spent the night in an empty cage all for himself and was honored enough to have personal guards. He didn't know whether to be pleased for the high security or repulsed for being thwarted to free his own species. His attempt to free the slaves had angered the owner and he'd received a few punches to gut for attempting to rectify that horrible practice. Although he sported physical bruises, his resolve to see the slaves freed had not withered and it only increased as daylight provided him with a better view of the camp.

He'd assumed that a few slave merchants lived in the camps but the situation was a lot worse than that. It seemed the ships the merchants owned were separate companies and within each, workers were hired to sell and buy 'merchandise' from the others. It was why so many ruckuses came from the auctions as companies bid their best to buy or sell a good slave or traded one for many. With morning already in full bloom, the slaves were being corralled out of their cages by their shackles to be led on yet another sale as Malik solemnly watched them.

The food, if you could call it that, wasn't very nutritious and the lack of decent commodities was disgusting. Vivian had told him that this practice would continue worldwide for many decades and still would in small parts of the world during her own time. Malik was lucky to have the clothes on his back for warmth but what could people with thin scraps do for warmth? He'd tried to speak with a few when sunrise broke into the land but many were afraid to utter a word without permission, even without their owners walking the area. Why did humans find their own people inferior when they were all the same? The search for power only lead to extinction and humankind failed to grasp that teaching as kingdoms rose and technology increased.

Malik had refused to answer any questions asked by the company owners and for that, received no food or water. It didn't matter to him since assassins were trained to survive and he'd bide his time until he could strike. He had taken notice of each shift of the guards and the surveillance of the area so time was ticking until he could eliminate the guards. He hoped to do so by nightfall since he needed to pocket a small weapon and the darkness would shield his actions, not to mention an escape.

Unfortunately, he didn't count on Altaïr being the ultimate bloodhound and finding him first.

The duo had ventured into the western side of the lake past the merchant shops to where the slave auctions were held. As Altaïr and Vivian played the innocent tourists, the assassin caught the words 'Arabian' and 'new' from potential buyers while he'd been sitting on a bench. Vivian pretended to feed pigeons while Altaïr had closed his eyes to attune his senses to everything around him. It was always a marvel to watch him at work and Vivian was glad for the cloth covering the lower half of her face as she'd smiled to his dedication.

After catching the first clues that could lead him to Malik, he had left with Vivian to find the camp. With the majority off selling slaves, it wasn't hard to ask for directions from them as Altaïr pretended to play a prospective buyer and headed northwest. As Vivian learned tricks from him, he learned the same in the art of acting and she'd been proud to see him play the role splendidly. He no longer tried to catch his words or conjured the least logical ideas for his role so it was definitely a step up from where he'd been a year ago.

When they reached the outskirts of the camps, Altaïr could see people wandering around between the upright tents and knew it wouldn't be easy. He needed someone to focus their attention while he used the nearby buildings as a vantage point to see whether Malik was anywhere nearby. If his friend left a trace of where he'd gone, he needed to find it before it was too late. They needed to make a clear path to search the area but Altaïr couldn't do it all himself when no areas for concealment could be seen. Yes, tents were available but what if they were occupied? There were a few lumps about so maybe they were sacks or hay lying around the area?

Vivian had become accustomed in being the decoy to help Altaïr and although he wanted to do everything himself, she couldn't let him. The man was already spreading himself too thin with each passing day and she needed to find a way to balance that strain. Their friend's life was at stake and that allowed Vivian to face whatever danger might come her way. She wasn't a woman filled with reckless confidence but when somebody needed her, she would bravely venture forth to lend a hand. Malik would do the same for her and she wouldn't let him down by not doing the same for her unofficial brother.

With that in mind, she swallowed whatever fear filled her and ordered Altaïr as he looked to the nearest building overlooking the camp, "You climb that building and when you see me being chased out, you charge in there. Use the tents to conceal yourself and eliminate anyone in your way."

"Vivian-" he objected sharply to her sudden gumption since he wanted to keep her safe but she wasn't having any of it. This was their chance to find a clue or possibly save their friend and she wouldn't let it slip through her grasp.

"You need me and I won't let a bunch of filthy slavers keep us from Malik" she stated firmly without hesitation because it was worth fighting for. Her book smarts were great for talking herself out of a bind but she needed physical skills as well to survive. Altaïr needed a partner by his side he could count on and Vivian wanted to fulfill that role when Malik wasn't available. For once, the fangirl inside her wasn't swooning at the chance to help him since the humor had left her since last night.

She took a deep breath as she turned to leave but he pulled her back by the shoulder in one sharp tug. Her mouth was ready to deflect any arguments from his end but she was pleasantly surprised to hear, "You come back to me safe and sound, all right?"

Vivian nodded once because she'd try her best and headed off as she left him standing with a ball of worry in his stomach. He'd never expected her to make the first move in a plan but Malik was an integral part of the team that needed to be found. He couldn't afford to waste time when Vivian was already on her way and he blended seamlessly into the crowds to scale the two story building overlooking the slaver camp. The alleyways between buildings were mostly empty and he didn't have to wait long before he ascended the wall carefully to find the best view to see Vivian's plan unveil.

The historian was good at three things: acting, historical knowledge, and stealing (why, _why_ was she proud of that one?). She would be implementing all three as the walks around the area had given her a layout of the buildings and she'd paid special attention to windows and hay carts. As she approached the outskirts of the camp, she made it quite obvious that she was tailing a few of them with her calculative steps and Altaïr hoped it was all a farce as he watched her. If something happened to her on his watch, he wouldn't forgive himself.

When she blatantly stole from two of the guards making rounds over the perimeter and was caught in the act, he was almost inclined to believe she'd failed. How could she steal so openly in public during daylight?! He was ready to scale down the building to protect her when he noticed her raise a hand in the futuristic thumbs up sign that distinctly told him everything was going according to plan. From down below, Vivian kept her hand raised to call attention to herself while the other held stolen goods that had gotten her caught. The guards and pretty much everyone around her had turned a furious eye towards her for the disrespectful act.

Vivian decided to let her real gender speak for itself since she still needed to conceal herself as a young man in Lake Victoria. Lowering the hood of her outfit to reveal her feminine face with its French braid in the back, Vivian held the cloth pouches she jiggled them in the air with a roughish grin, "Your donations to the Vivian Foundation are greatly appreciated."

"Wench! Cut off her hands!" the guard declared furiously to being caught off-guard by a woman of all people and Vivian sped off like a speed demon. Her months trekking with the assassins had allowed her stamina to increase and during stays in camp, she had begun running laps to maintain it. She couldn't believe how far she'd come from the scared irritable woman she'd been upon arrival since she couldn't have run for long to save her own life.

With her acting and stealing skills deployed, she used the last lure with her historic knowledge of song. If there was one way to be caught in any real life or gaming scenario, it was noise and she provided plenty of it as she ran. Altaïr wasted no time in utilizing the area she'd cleared as five men chased after her and although he worried with each step away from her, he wouldn't let her opportunity close.

As Altaïr headed into camp to find clues, Vivian used the roads she'd memorized along the way to lead the men into an old abandoned building. She could hear the rabble of numerous slurs behind her as they demanded her head and had begun an off-key tune to keep them enraged.

"_One jump ahead of the breadline  
One swing ahead of the sword  
I steal only what I can't afford  
That's everything!_

_One jump ahead of the slavers  
That's all, and that's no joke  
These guys don't appreciate I'm broke"_

Vivian couldn't have planned it any better when the men called out angrily, "Riffraff! Street rat!"

She ran into the doorway of the large two-story building and leaned against the old wood to lead them in rather than hide. It was all about detection to lead them away from Altaïr since they were pretty mad to begin with. Waving her right hand to anger them further for almost giving them the slip, she grinned impishly with a drawling lyric, _"Just a little loot, guys."_

When she saw that they were all giving chase, she slipped inside to find the first staircase as she continued loudly,

"_I can take a hint, gotta face the facts  
In this world, I've only got two friends  
I've become a one-woman rise in crime  
I'd blame my parents but they're futuristic  
Gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat  
Tell you all about it when I got the time!"_

She narrowly avoided a flung knife as she ascended the staircase for the second level and saw it embed on the banister before scrambling up,

"_One jump ahead of the slowpokes  
One skip ahead of my doom  
Next time, gonna use a nom de plume_

_One jump ahead of the hitmen_  
_One hit ahead of the flock_  
_I think I'll take a stroll a-a-around the block"_

With that said, she slipped into the second story of the building with pants since running and singing was not easy to maintain. Still, she promised Altaïr that she would return safely to him and she kept her promises. Otherwise, he'd unleash a lecture of monumental proportion and there was no way she was risking sitting three hours just for that. It was bad enough that Malik was lost and adding her into the mix would only worsen his internal stress. Everything she did was for them and she hoped they appreciated her efforts, small as they were.

"_One jump ahead of the hoofbeats."_

"Vandal!," she could hear them at the top of the stairs now and Vivian ran to find the window she'd spotted on the east side. It would be the escape route, the only one, and she'd planned everything after Altaïr broke into the home to have a small break. This wasn't a random run into an unknown building since she covered all of her corners to ensure her safety. While Altaïr had planned their next sites for investigating, she'd gone off to explore the building and built her plan rather easily as she utilized its natural architecture for her benefit.

"_One hop ahead of the hump  
One trick ahead of disaster-"_

"Scoundrel!", their footsteps echoed over the floor and she saw them meters from her as she found the small window as light filtered over the floor. It beckoned her to safety and Vivian would seize it as she hoped it would all play out well with her living to tell the tale.

"_They're quick, but I'm much faster  
Here goes, better throw my hand in  
Wish me happy landin'  
All I gotta do is jump!"_

With that in mind, Vivian gave it her all in the last steps to the small window that was just large enough to fit her petite frame (but not theirs) and grasped the dusty windowsill with her fingers. Looking down, she spotted the cart of hay she'd asked Altaïr to move for her (she'd lied about planning it as a getaway for him) and jumped out.

Altaïr was the master that perfected the leap of faith while she'd simply curled into a round ball and hoped for the best. She held her head between her arms to protect the most precious object in her body and felt the tension of the air pulling at her clothes as gravity pulled her downwards. From above, she heard nothing but the faintest groans and hoped the men wouldn't try to squeeze through the small window since they'd undoubtedly become stuck. Also, the ruckus in the old building would be causing a few floorboards to give way when they tried to leave.

She yelped when she landed square in the cart and hay covered her entirely to conceal her perfectly. She was _alive_! Gravity hadn't made her go splat like an egg on concrete! Hurrah! Her chest rose rapidly as the adrenaline of being faced with death slowly left her body and she lay in the hay to reassure herself that nothing had broken in the jump. A year ago, she had been frightened to ride a horse and now- she'd jumped out of a _building_!

Life was indeed strange as she traveled alongside Altaïr and her cheeks warmed to the man that tickled her pink with awesomeness. With that in mind, she hoisted herself out of the cart to make a hasty escape down the street to hide at the rendezvous point she made with Altaïr. If AC games taught her anything, it was to never linger after escaping doom against enemies. Otherwise, you'd be a walking target ready to take an arrow in the back.

Meanwhile, in the camp's outskirts, Altaïr was already putting his top skills into play to find their lost friend. Altaïr used his best stealth to sneak past guards that lingered in the camps to watch over slaves that had yet to be presented at the auctions. The majority of the tents had been empty when he needed them to hide and stacked crates full of goods were handy to make a dashing escape from being caught. So far, he had found nothing interesting at all as he used his eagle vision and wondered if wandering inside had been a good idea at all.

What if the clues he'd believed were no clues at all? What if he'd sent Vivian into danger for nothing? As he crouched behind crates of silk fabrics, he wondered where the little badger was after sending her off without a weapon in hand. All he could do was hope for the best and in tribute to the historian, swiped one of the rolls of fabric along the way. Women liked blue, right?

Just as he'd been ready to call everything quits, he saw a familiar navy hue within one of the metal cages placed against the surrounding forest. He remembered Malik had been rather incensed about the treatment of human beings in the area but what could Altaïr do? He couldn't exactly drop the mission to save people that would have numerous enemies breathing down their necks. If so, how could they possibly hope to resume their investigation? It wasn't his choice to be cold but logic demanded that he look to the main mission over all.

As he moved in closer to have a better look to the lonely figure dressed in navy, he could see two people standing watch in front of the cage. Altaïr had never been one to have vision problems so he didn't have to wander close to find where his friend had wound up. He had half a mind to punch the tent he was hiding in but did nothing as he peered out to see how the dai fared. He thanked the fact that he was still wearing yesterday's clothing (well, he pretty much wore the same outfit for the last months since he had spares) since it helped identify him easily in the distance. Still, it didn't make Altaïr feel better at knowing his friend was practically incarcerated and being monitored. This wasn't what he'd wanted to find at all!

When the guards glanced away from his current position, Altaïr made the move to tread closer to the cage. Unfortunately, he couldn't wander closer than twenty feet and stuck behind sacks of goods as he tried to catch Malik's attention. The dai had been biding his time until he could steal a weapon and he blanched at seeing his friend wiggling his fingers behind sacks.

Was he out of his mind coming there?

When the guards were busy talking to themselves, Altaïr took the time to motion that he'd kill them and set him free. Malik was quick to shake his head to that careless move and motioned with his fingers that there was a lock keeping him inside. Altaïr mentally sighed in dismay since his lock picker was ironically locked _inside_ a cage and cursed their luck. He pointed towards the sun and moved his arm in counterclockwise motion to show he could return at sunset to eliminate them. Malik shook his head solemnly since it would jeopardize the mission and pointed to the missing gauntlet that had been removed from his right arm to show the mission came first.

Altaïr was incensed that they dared to remove an assassins' most prized weapon but understood Malik's meaning. Voices grew stronger behind him as the men that had chased after Vivian had breached the perimeter and had drawn the attention of the ones that lingered. Altaïr knew his window of escape was closing fast but he didn't want to leave his friend at the hands of these horrible people. Malik made the tough choice for him by drawing the guards' attention when he spit at the back of one of their heads to incense them.

As he drew their ire, he met Altaïr's gaze to let him know it was fine to be abandoned because he had fallen into that mess himself. This situation was his to bear alone and he wouldn't drag anyone else down with him. With a heavy heart, Altaïr turned away from his friend and crept away into the shadows to return to Vivian. Hopefully, his other companion would be there to meet him since Malik would not be rejoining them.

* * *

Altaïr returned to the rendezvous point to find Vivian changing inside an empty building and startled her as she slipped into a different colored tunic. After her chase out of the slaver camp, she needed a change in appearance to maintain her boyish look to walk safely in the land. They had picked the small old building to meet at as it stood away from both the slaver camp and trade merchants but she didn't expect him to come back during her wardrobe change.

He hid a smile of amusement as she squeaked and tried to find a place to hide but there was absolutely nothing in the dusty building (except a few cobwebs). The empty sleeves of the tunic fluttered in the wind as she scuttled everywhere and he had to jump forward to grab her by the waist to still her frantic movements. Vivian's cheeks reddened more than they were as the cold gauntlets refreshed her hot skin and his bare fingers didn't help lower the heat striking her face. It was so much easier when they were fighting like territorial lions and wouldn't have dared to touch each other with a ten foot pole.

Her poor heart fluttered wildly when he kept her locked in place against him and leaned down to whisper with humor, "There is nowhere to hide, Vivian. Just finish dressing while I turn around."

With that said, he released her to turn away from her and Vivian quickly complied to set the tunic in place. She wanted the unbearable warmth to leave her face as she brushed back stray pieces of hair and wiped sweat from her brow, breathing deeply to calm herself. It was hard not to when a dangerous assassin, not to mention the man you had the hots for, was standing no less than five feet away. She scuttled off to grab their travel pack so they could continue on the road because she wanted to know what happened and asked softly, "What happened out there?"

"I found Malik" he answered simply but it was enough to cast aside her bashful flustering for the safety of her friend. Was he all right? Had he been injured? Why wasn't he there with them? Altaïr could see the numerous questions forming as her green eyes lit up to their friend but he grasped her shoulders to let her know the news wouldn't bring her cheer. He didn't want her upset after she deprived herself of sleep that day and stated gently, "He was caught by slavers."

"What?! How? When?" she rambled worriedly since the prospect was worse than having him lost in a ditch or beaten up in a random fight. She didn't feel the same without her trusty friend by her side and her face fell at knowing he was enduring such a demeaning position. Her friend- and any other human being- was worth more than that and Vivian wanted to see him freed more than anything else.

Altaïr kept her in place before she sped off to save Malik by herself and explained, "He was caught trying to free slaves yesterday and he's on a careful watch. I couldn't free him without alerting everyone and my window closed soon after you left."

"I hoped to trap them inside the building- I even jumped from. . ." she sighed with irritation since she wanted the men to be hurt along the way to buy him some time. Altaïr's face shifted from disappointment to disbelief when she slipped her daring escape and she winced visibly at the demanding look in his eyes following the word 'jumped'. She chuckled nervously as she tapped her fingers to feign innocence and tried to lie her way out of a jam, "Jumped from a bale of hay into a water trough-"

"Your pants aren't wet and neither are your shoes" he pointed out flatly to blow her lie out of the water and crossed his arms because he wasn't budging. Vivian's shoulders slumped since there was no way anybody could pull the wool over his head and sighed meekly to her snafu. Why was she so incredibly bad at lying as herself but mastered it perfectly with her impersonations? She didn't want him to chastise her for being daring without asking but Altaïr merely reassured calmly, "I won't snap at your recklessness until I know what it was."

"Must I tell you? It would avoid being snapped at" she tried to sway her way out of that bind but the man was not relenting in the slightest. Seeing that she was wasting time that could be put to use on saving Malik, she sighed softly, "I jumped from a two story window to avoid being caught-"

"You _jumped_ from . . . are you . . . how did . . . you little. . ." she literally left him speechless to her sudden rise in bravery since he never expected her to jump out of anything! He was the only one performing death defying leaps of faith while she was to remain grounded where safety was. What had made her do such a thing without him supervising her? Was she out of her mind? She was such a petite woman that he couldn't believe her form could even do such a thing. Her meek demeanor, a rare sight, calmed the short fuse she'd lit since he worried more for her wellbeing and swallowed the worry to ask calmly, "Are you hurt?"

"No, but I never want to do it again" she admitted without hesitation since the drop had caused her poor heart to jackhammer in her rib cage. The assassin was a brave man beyond a doubt since he scaled buildings that would've made her faint by the third story. Her hands shook in remembrance of jumping out the small window and praying she wouldn't become roadkill, murmuring quietly, "I don't know how you do it, Altaïr, but I admire you for it."

"It's an acquired taste" he replied earnestly since he didn't start out wanting to jump out of the tallest building in Damascus. His heart rested easier at knowing she didn't want to repeat the action but he admired the fact she pushed herself to do it. There was bravery in that heart that increased her need to survive and he complimented her crafty plan, "I am proud of you today, Vivian, but never do that again."

She wouldn't argue with him there but her chest puffed with pride at earning the assassin's seal of approval. The 'Altaïr Stamp of Awesomeness' was something she'd sought since landing in his realm and rather than basking in it, she'd press on to keep that momentum. Her green eyes noticed a hint of blue sticking out behind his robes and she squinted to ask curiously, "Is that a fabric roll?"

"Oh- yes, it is" he replied simply as he remembered he'd tucked it in his belt to walk easier and removed the new roll to hand it to her. Vivian's fingers smoothed over the soft, almost silky, fabric since all they wore was linen or a blend of cheap fabrics. Well, except Altaïr, since he was extremely picky about his style. He motioned his right index finger towards her since he'd never given her anything at all- nor any woman- and struggled to explain, "I found it at the slaver camp- well, _borrowed_- since they don't deserve anything for profiting from others. I thought, I mean, _if_ you'd like it. . .maybe you could keep it. I mean, it's yours but it's _not_ obligatory-"

"Is this a gift from the great Altaïr?" she chided with mirth as she smiled for the first time since it was hard not to at his modesty. She'd never heard him stutter before or emphasize that many words but she appreciated his sentiment. He'd obviously swiped it with his rebellious nature against evildoers and she nodded to thank him sincerely, "Thank you, it probably costs more than what we own. We can cut a few yards and make clothes but sell the rest for money. We're not exactly swimming in riches."

"So . . . you like it?" he asked carefully to make sure his first spur of the moment gift was actually appreciated since he didn't know what women liked. He couldn't exactly afford a book for her and buying her robes back in Giza had almost left them penniless but that had been an emergency. Vivian decided on a simple nod with a thankful smile to prevent entangling herself in a verbal snafu and he returned it with a faint smile of his own, "Good."

Tucking her hair neatly under the hood, she looked towards the closed door that allowed them privacy and stated firmly, "We have to get Malik back. If he's in that camp and we've heard the rumors floating about, we can name our price to nab him."

Altaïr blinked with confusion to what she implied and clarified uncertainly, "You want to _buy_ him?"

* * *

That's _exactly_ what she did.

Vivian wore her confidence pants as she took the lead to strut into the camp with Altaïr hot on her heels. Quite frankly, he was worried out of his mind she'd fall into trouble the moment she opened her mouth to speak with the 'owner' of Malik. With her male persona of a high-ranking merchant from the Ottoman Empire, Vivian had brought forth the rumors of Malik in their midst. She had all the cards to play in her hand and she was going all in to save her friend from a life of slavery or worse.

The well-dressed man in dark green robes tried to sway her potential as a buyer towards his other stock but Vivian stared him square in the eyes to question sharply, "Do you, or don't you have an Arabian for sale? Being from the golden city, I prefer to have one that can communicate when I demand tasks of him."

"Yes, I have one-" the bearded Moroccan man replied since he wouldn't allow a sale to slide by, even if the man hadn't finished being questioned. The interloper had been quite silent despite numerous interrogations and he was at a wit's end to make him compliant. If he could make decent coin out of him, why not?

"Then I will purchase the Arabian slave" Vivian declared confidently as she strode forward while Altaïr wondered what she was doing. She couldn't possibly think of _paying_ them for Malik? That would just increase the need for a slave trade through Africa and it stood against everything he fought for. Secondly, where would they get enough currency since they were piss poor? He wasn't about to lose the coins he'd picked off the dusty roads since it was embarrassing enough foraging for money.

"How much will you pay? An Arabian is rare in these parts and hasn't been broken yet" the man questioned to make the sale since a profit would benefit better than wasting his time with the silent man. He didn't know if the stranger was a thief or a protester against their business but either way, he would get some coin out of him.

Vivian smiled slyly since bargaining was her game and answered confidently, "I won't be using coin but rather, a trade."

Altaïr and the slaver were surprised to her currency choice because melted ore was the best form of currency to trade. Vivian, however, implemented her crafty knowledge with the ace up her sleeve to save Malik from certain misery. The haughty glitter in her green eyes as her face was covered by the cloth either gender used didn't sit well with the man and he demanded curtly, "Explain."

Vivian dug into her left pocket to reveal a folded paper and opened it to show small round black seeds stored within it. Altaïr blinked with confusion since he hadn't seen those seeds in his life and wondered just what she had planned. It was hard to keep his face straight when she kept surprising him with each passing second. She smiled impishly behind her face cover as the man eyed her suspiciously and Vivian recounted dramatically, "These are magical seeds from the isolated land of Madagascar. For many years, they have been known to yield crops and plants of all kinds to their holders."

The slave owner was not satisfied with her mysterious tale since money spoke volume and questioned incredulously, "And why would I want _seeds_? Not to mention, why should I believe you?"

"Produce is always in demand in every land and it could help increase your surplus" she pointed out matter-of-factly as she wagged her index finger like a salesman selling the crappiest car on the lot. They needed Malik back on their side where he would be safe and Vivian would lie her pants off to get him there. She pointed to the little black seeds and deliberated her sales pitch further with assurance, "As for believing me, I didn't either when the seeds were given to me by a merchant who couldn't pay for my goods. I tried my hardest to be rid of them when I awoke the following day with plants growing out of my backyard since I'd chucked them out as the last straw. Unfortunately, they always returned to my side because you can only hand them over to another through trade to release their hold. They have been used throughout the world by a select few and have been a hidden secret for two centuries."

The man didn't appear convinced as he stared at her apathetically and she reasoned confidently, "As a show of good faith, I will relinquish three of these nine seeds and I want you to plant them today. You must do so by sunset to allow them to grow to their full capacity and fertile dirt will work best. How do I know, you ask? Because I've made a living out of doing so for five years."

She stood straight with her shoulders squared to exude confidence as a merchant and finished, "By tomorrow morning, if you do not have _any_ plants, I will pay double. If not, I will keep him for free since I am giving away some of my most valuable possessions after making a living from agriculture."

With that said, she handed the man three small round seeds with a quick nod to seal their deal and stated, "I await your response tomorrow."

The man snorted to her claim but glanced at the seeds in his hand curiously as he muttered frankly, "Fine but I doubt any of this is true."

"Don't worry, it _will_ be- that's a guarantee!" she promised perkily with a snap of her fingers and motioned for Altaïr to leave with her. They had arrived under the premise that he was her bodyguard and with his arsenal, the slave owner believed it when the white robed man never took his eyes away from them.

It was tough for the two to leave Malik since they weren't able to catch a single glimpse of him from their position. How could they know if he was well? The heat of the day would've undoubtedly brought thirst and Altaïr doubted they would generously pour him a cup of water. When they were far enough to be out of earshot from any people from the camp, Vivian leaned over to assure, "We won't leave him alone tonight. You need to find a vantage point to keep an eye on him while I. . .I need to find young trees and plant them."

Altaïr stared with confusion to why she needed trees and she explained with a mischievous tone, "I did promise the man plants and crops, didn't I? Vivian Shore doesn't lose a bet."

Her plan sounded insane since she'd handed the man seeds and he could throw them anywhere. Altaïr wasn't sure this plan would work until she added in her final order, "For this, however, I will need you to follow that man until he plants them so then _I_ can move in."

Altaïr couldn't help but be flabbergasted and intrigued to her idea as they walked away to their secret hideaway. He'd never have imagined Vivian to have quite the strategic mind in her creativity and chided sarcastically, "What makes you think I'll be sitting on a hot rooftop for _hours_ just for your crazy plan?"

"Because you promised to do my bidding, remember?" she shot back with an amused chuckle to his promise from last night.

Altaïr cursed uttering those words but this time, he had no problem following her request since Malik's life was at stake. He withheld his hand from ruffling her hooded head as they walked and asked curiously, "What were those seeds?"

"I picked them out of a fruit from the inn" she replied cheekily since she'd filed them to make them tinier so they could be indistinguishable. She couldn't risk her lie being exposed so she'd created an extensive false history on a fictional magical seed. Altaïr couldn't help but smile to the ridiculousness of it all as the woman brought him cheer in his solemn life and she admitted cheerfully, "It's times like this that I wonder if I should ever write a book about all of this."

"Count me as your first reader then" he encouraged with a warm smile that lit up her eyes to the compliment as they walked down the lonely street. For a brief moment, she desired to loop her arm through his to show her affection for his words.

How could she ever hope to nudge him out of her heart?

* * *

Altaïr made true on his promise as he kept tabs on the man and when he caught him burying the seeds near the forest, he alerted Vivian. By that time, she'd found the small trees she'd sought (through looting means) and he'd watched her dig with a shovel to plant her magical crops. She was a crafty badger indeed as she placed them strategically over the recently broken ground to plant the small young trees- one palm tree and two young pear trees. It was the cheapest steal on her own without his help and Altaïr had to admit he had a little thief on his hands . . . why was he a bit proud of that?

The two had to decide afterwards to either stay or return to the inn for sleep but Vivian stepped up to the plate once more. Since they had set up the old abandoned two-story building as their rendezvous point, she decided to make it their unofficial headquarters of the night. She'd made the second floor into a sleeping area for them so they wouldn't leave Malik and save themselves the travel time in the morning. Altaïr found some rope to tie the front door to prevent unwanted intruders and stolen a candle from a nearby home (which he'd return) to light their temporary home. Vivian promised to stay the whole time while Altaïr would take shifts at the building overlooking the camp to make sure nothing happened to Malik.

Vivian pulled together a small meal of wheat bread with sesame sprinkled over the top, hard cheese, and pieces of dry meat since it was all she'd brought on short notice. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing and she'd tried to keep a cheerful mood by piping up she had fruit juice. Altaïr didn't want to risk upsetting his stomach and had stuck to simple water but thanked her. She had been a bit reluctant to see him go since the night held more dangers than daylight but he'd promised to return safe.

When he did return past midnight, he'd slammed into a closed window since he'd reminded her to keep it open for him to prevent waking her. Thankfully, nobody walked through the dusty street when he'd bounced back like rubber in surprise and he'd banged on the window to be allowed inside. It had been frustrating to say the least because assassins didn't exactly announce their presence.

"Vivian, you're bringing shame to my order" he chastised gently as he nursed his shoulder blade after landing on it outside. His companion apologized profusely for forgetting him entirely since she didn't trust being by herself in a lonely building and had barricaded herself inside. He didn't see why that was her first choice since it blocked off any form of escape and she'd added in using the second story window again. The idea of her jumping from anywhere didn't sit well and he chastised her, "No more jumping, I forbid it."

"Saying that just makes me want to do it more" she replied cheekily as he ushered her up the creaky stairs since he wanted to go sleep. She batted his hands away as she scuttled up the dusty stairs to head to the center of the floor where she'd laid out a simple blanket with loose straw piled underneath to cushion their bodies against the hardwood flooring. Since they'd expected to stay out for the day only, she hadn't brought anything else so they had no blankets to use.

"I have to sleep in my clothes?" he sighed with disappointment since he had numerous layers and they weren't exactly comfortable. The sight of their sleeping arrangements reminded him of a time when he'd lost his travel pack escaping from a gang of Templars and had to sleep in the dirt with nothing but the clothes on his back. He wanted to grumble about the unfairness of it all but Vivian had done the work for him so he'd take a page out of her humble book and be thankful.

He patted the top of her head as he passed by but stopped when she tugged the back of his leather belt to begin unbuckling it. She could only imagine his exhaustion since being perched on top of a building for hours could only be painfully tedious. Altaïr stopped to her breach in personal space since she usually asked to help him remove his boots or other accessories before doing so. He had no problem with it but the fact that her fingers spanned over his covered waist were enough to remind him that he didn't have Malik to keep an eye on him. It was so much easier with him on watch so he could manage his behavior around Vivian in quiet close quarters.

Removing his gauntlets, he focused on the small straps rather than her fingers as they removed the crimson sash from his midsection. It didn't take much for him to feel naked with his reserved nature and as he watched her fold the cloth from his peripheral vision, decided that she wasn't ugly in his view. Her eyes drew him the most and her mop of raven locks brought the same to his hands as he wanted to weave them in her mane to brush it into straight strands. He shook his head to banish that thought since being in close quarters didn't help any and lowered his hood to brush his hands over his face to remove the exhaustion from his eyes. Yes, it was simple exhaustion causing all of his delirious thinking on her being alluring.

When he withdrew his hands to open his eyes, he came close to an uncharacteristic yelp when he saw her standing in front of him with little distance between them. She was right _there_! His eyes widened slightly as he caught her fingers halfway to the hidden buttons holding his hood in place to his robes and asked carefully, "Vivian, are you trying to undress me while I'm not looking?"

Her face contorted into mortified shock to the serious expression on his own and she yelped immediately, "_What?!_ No! You looked as if you needed air."

"Is that your excuse for being caught?" he asked with a quizzical eye to her behavior since it helped ease the burden of his own. As he spent time with Vivian, he was growing accustomed to using her deflective sarcasm to protect his own thoughts and emotions but in a drier humor. He assumed it was working like a charm when she began to resemble a strawberry and smirked to chide her gently, "It's all right, Vivian-"

"No, it's not! On one hand, I didn't mean it and in the other, I _did_! That's a huge life altering difference! " she pointed out shrilly to the horrible idea because she never meant to appear as if she were trying to bed him. That was the farthest thing on her mind at the moment with her fluttering emotions and Malik trapped in a forsaken camp. This was why they needed the dai to be their safety glue because otherwise, she'd become goo with every comment from his end. She waved one hand as she stepped away to return to her makeshift bed with no blankets and stated flatly, "Don't flatter yourself."

"So you wouldn't want to sleep with me?" he asked with an indignant tone because although his emotions were in flux, he wanted to appear averagely handsome. What, did she find him monstrously ugly? Was that it? What had happened about being the 'awesomest' assassin ever? The thought hurt slightly since he hoped somebody would find him alluring, even just a little, since he was always shrouded with his hood.

She resisted the urge to claw out her eyes for this turn of events since Altaïr watched himself carefully when the dai was around. He didn't reach for her hand or confess personal opinions when he was in their vicinity and kept their relationship strictly platonic, bordering on business. She couldn't decide what he sought exactly since he was jumping all over the place and questioned frankly, "Are you joking or is this your way of flirting?"

"I. . .don't _know_ anymore- I'm sleep deprived!" he admitted with a miserable groan to the lack of sleep they both had so far and stomped over to sit down on the floor. Vivian was getting ready to warn him about the hard flooring but it was too late as he sat down and groaned with pain seconds later. He massaged his tail bone with one hand while using the other to remove his boot as he mumbled flatly, "This is the worst part of this journey."

Prying off both boots, he flung them aside and plopped down on his back to get some decent sleep before sunrise. Vivian remained sitting up with the candle burning beside her, its cascading wax keeping it in place after she'd jammed it over liquid wax to make a natural holder, since she wanted an update on Malik. Since he'd clearly stated he was tired, she kept silent to avoid irritating (and disturbing) him further and blew out the light to shroud the building in complete darkness.

She wished she could be of more help to him and missed Malik greatly since he kept their group dynamics balanced. Lying down to turn on her side, she curled into a fetal position to keep warm and hoped everything would turn out fine tomorrow.

* * *

By early morning, they were already at the outskirts of the slaver camp and seeking an audience with the man holding their friend. Again, Vivian had stomped through with exuberant confidence until she stood face-to-face with the taller man decked in luxurious fabrics. She smirked proudly to her handiwork when the man was more eager with questions rather than shooing her away. Apparently, he'd discovered the trees after sunrise just like she'd told him and was surprised _anything_ came from the seeds.

"How is that possible?" he questioned as her magical seeds turned him from a skeptic to a believer overnight. He hadn't told anyone about the area he'd chosen and had made sure nobody was near the vicinity when he planted the seeds.

Vivian merely smiled innocently since she'd had an assassin on her side and explained, "That's the magic of the seeds. When you plant one, vegetation will grow and you'll soon be able to harvest and sell your produce. It's a secret from Madagascar that I was privy to and when I see something I want, I will share it."

"So you want _one_ slave for the seeds? I do have a better variety in stock or in his place- I can give you five strong slaves" he asked carefully to make a fair trade since one man couldn't be worth what she was giving him. He turned around to eye the dai that had been starved since his arrival but Malik refused to speak with anyone. Quite frankly, he would be happy to be rid of him since it would mean his slaves wouldn't be stolen anytime soon.

"Yes, I need him for trading at the docks of the golden city and the lack of an arm will prove him less of a threat for me" she pointed out with assurance but his other options left her with guilt. Could she selfishly save Malik and doom five other innocent people to their life in slavery? Didn't they deserve the same as her friend? She was almost ready to ask about adding in two more people for the price she'd named but the slaver snapped his fingers towards Malik.

"Then our transaction will be complete- the seeds for the slave" he stated with a triumphant grin to his new 'magical' seeds and two of his men pulled Malik out of the cage by the scruff of his neck. It took great willpower for her not to reach out to help him when the men pushed him forward and stayed rooted to the spot as she aimed an apathetic look to him. Oh, how could people do this kind of business? Altaïr took care of it for her when he picked up Malik by the sleeve but maintained an aloof air about it to keep up with their façade.

Vivian quickly handed the man the rest of the seeds she'd promised and withheld from laughing at the gleeful glint in the man's eyes. Boy, would he be in for a nice surprise when he planted the next seeds. Finishing their business, the trio walked away from the slaver camp as Altaïr maintained that security enforcer aura by pulling Malik along with them.

When they were far away from earshot, Malik sighed under his breath, "I really thought I could save a few. Why didn't you take a few of the slaves and left me behind-"

"Malik, it's been bad enough worrying about you for the past forty eight hours" Altaïr intervened since he was ready to unleash one hell of a lecture about informing friends about crazy plans. The dai shot back that this was his cause and wouldn't have dared to risk the mission, even if he had to be left behind. This time, Altaïr didn't act out his role when he shook his friend for his stubbornness and pointed out, "You're a part of our team- of course we'd come back for you!"

"I can see you only had good intentions but this wasn't the way to go about it" Vivian stated gently since they did their missions together to ensure they would succeed. Otherwise, they'd be running around like chickens with their heads chopped off if they went at it separately. Malik frowned because for the first time, _they_ were right and he preferred being the one in the right when arguments happened. If he had to agree with someone, he'd defer to Vivian and she continued, "I'll help you in whatever you need, Malik. We work better as a team because Altaïr and I have been jumping all over the place trying to get you back. I mean, _magical_ seeds? This is what my brain cooks up when we're lost without you."

"I can't believe that idea worked" Malik admitted with astonishment since he'd expected Altaïr to barge into the camp and assassinate them quietly in the night. Their brotherhood was more methodical in their approaches but then again, creativity was encouraged. He couldn't believe his ears when Vivian had marched to declare her purchase on simple seeds but she'd done something to change the man's mind since most would've sent her running.

Altaïr agreed wholeheartedly and clapped Vivian on the back to state with a compliment, "All thanks to our little historian with a very creative mind."

"I just wanted you home safe and sound" she smiled earnestly since she had her big brother back without harm and couldn't wait to get to the inn. She'd be feeding him until he was ready to burst and would tend to her friend to the point of asphyxiation. They would explain the whole story to him once they were back to ensure his safety since one snafu would land all of them back in that desolate camp. They turned to walk down an emptier road to avoid the moving crowds since they would stick to the roads less traveled to return and she smiled with happiness that had been void in the last day, "We missed you."

He looked to Altaïr since the man rarely admitted emotion and the assassin mumbled awkwardly, "_All_ her . . . but I'm glad to have you back."

"Either way, all's well that ends well" Vivian stated with relief at having her friend back safe and sound, hugging him with a wide smile. It's not like anyone would call the norm police to whack her into a gender role. The trio had been reunited so they could continue their mission to find the elusive POE. Hopefully, it would not end up with anyone else being unwillingly jailed but Vivian wouldn't hold her breath. They were a rather unorthodox group: a short tempered assassin with no social skills, a one-armed cartographer/dai/unofficial Nobel peace prize winner, and a lost dimensional traveler with a knack for stealing.

* * *

It didn't take long for Vivian to return to her perky mood once she was certain Malik wouldn't run off and do something reckless again. Altaïr had wrenched a promise from him that he wouldn't do so until the item was found so they had time to escape if it went to hell. The three decided to head out in their canoe to begin scoping out the lake piece by piece but the lack of decent diving equipment made it impossible. Even having the lungs of pearl divers wouldn't have helped. It was a good thing there weren't any dangerous wildlife either because Altaïr had decided to take a swim . . . once he was certain Vivian would stay in the boat and stop splashing everyone with water. She'd been incredibly upbeat since Malik's return and with it, her songs had returned full blast. . .

"_Some women travel for sport,  
Others voyage for a home,  
Or for a life documenta-a-ary,  
The only thing I'm exploring for,  
Is a tale that's legendary... _

_Hear my quest, hear my quest,  
I assure you it's the best,  
From Syria to Kenya, there's no better  
You couldn't read it in a single letter!  
See this scar, 'twas a Templar,  
I've even nabbed Altaïr to spar,  
Yes, my tale is quite biza-a-arre  
It even makes Indiana Jones cringe!_

_These leathers slippers have traveled a hundred miles  
Blisters or not, my companions see my nonstop smiles  
Tons of fights with Altaïr to share  
Numerous advice from Malik with care  
Rest assured, Altaïr's blade is not at my throat  
If it was, I'd drop him headfirst off the boat  
Read my quest!  
It's all true, I can attest!_

"I'll drop you off the boat if you continue" Altaïr chastised to cease her horrible off-key singing but it fell on deaf ears. After all, she had his promise to let her do as she pleased. Why did he _never_ think logically when she was involved?

"_Try my Giza journey,  
You'll pay no money  
Or the time Altaïr caused a village explosion  
Rest assured, it prevented Templar domination  
It comes with humor and fear,  
Like when Altaïr drank a beer  
It sunk the entire assassin nation  
Or when he spanked me for humiliation  
I tell you, it's been a real treat_

_Read my quest, read my quest,_  
_Like my songs?_  
_I've got a ton!_  
_But Altaïr's glares will blot the sun_  
_No matter, I love being on the run_  
_AC fans should know I've seen his awesome blade_  
_And no, not the one where you get laid_  
_I'm pretty sure by now, he's offering me for trade_  
_But archaic or not, I'm glad I stayed_

_It was that or rot in a dungeon,  
But I'm a gal that loves a daily luncheon  
Plus, who wouldn't love the dai?  
He's kept me sane without a misty eye  
I've been bitten and 'napped,  
This badger can quickly adapt  
A book in hand and a blade at the waist  
How could it not be best?  
_

_So let's prepare for a lengthy read,  
I won't mislead!  
Read my quest, read my quest,  
Oh please, won't you hear my quest!"_

"Quiet, you pest" Altaïr chastised hastily since the song was notoriously catchy in rhythm as she kept each line with a matching beat. How did she do that? Her first mission plan had been notoriously brilliant and he could only wonder what else lay in that mind of hers. When he realized that his words matched her lyrics, he growled under his breath and scolded, "Damn it, you've even got me rhyming!"

"Frankly, I'm glad to be back so keep on singing" Malik admitted since he wouldn't wish being locked up on anyone and relaxed against the back of the canoe. This just added fuel for Vivian and Altaïr sulked, reminding them that they were there to investigate- not create a musical. The dai shook his head to his friend's tenacity since they'd only gotten back together for a day and sighed morosely, "You're really going to dive into the lake?"

"I don't see a better option" he pointed out since the land yielded nothing and he wasn't about to do a runaround all over again. Using the items in his possession had done nothing either and he'd only been left with diving into the dark lake. For all he knew, it had fallen into its depths throughout the ages and he could find it.

Vivian wasn't convinced by his confidence since she'd recently taught him to swim and tried to steer him away from the idea by singing,

"_The grass is always greener  
In somebody else's lake  
You dream about up there  
But that is a big mistake  
Just look at the world around you  
Right here on the lake floor  
Such wonderful things surround you  
What more are you lookin' for?_

_Under the lake  
Under the lake  
Darling, it's better  
Down where it's wetter  
Take it from me  
Up on the shore, assassins work all day  
Out in the sun, they stab Templars away  
While we devotin'  
Full time to floatin'  
Under the lake_

"Did you just call me _darling_?" he asked with an indignant grimace since he was used to hearing that term towards women and received a light swat to the head. He'd never had a term of endearment shot his way but he'd rather avoid all of them to prevent that annoying little flutter in the center of his chest. Malik couldn't help but laugh at his bewildered face since he'd never seen him interact with the opposite gender when romance was involved. Needless to say, the world fared better with him as an assassin.

"_Down here all the fish is happy  
As off through the waves they roll  
The assassins on the land ain't happy  
They sad 'cause their pay is crappy  
But the assassin is lucky  
Unlike Templars, they have a better fate  
Not to mention, they can get a date  
But if he's back late, Altaïr will have him on a plate_

"That one rings true" Malik chuckled to her spot on lyric about the stern assassin and Altaïr hissed with the fury of a wet cat.

"_Under the lake  
Under the lake  
Nobody will beat us  
Kill us and maim us  
For Templar f-u-u-u-n  
We got no troubles  
Life is the bubbles  
_

_Under the lake  
Under the lake  
They'll be no allegations  
Just friendly crustaceans  
Since life is sweet here  
We got the beat here  
Naturally  
I could begin a happy dance sway  
With Malik on a conch shell to play  
We got the spirit  
You got to hear it_

_Under the lake  
The novices play the flute  
The scholars play the harp  
The masters play the bass  
And they soundin' sharp  
The rafiqs play the brass  
And Altaïr will be the duke of soul  
The dai, he can play  
The informants on the strings  
The scouts rockin' out  
The blacksmith, he sings  
The trainers and the teachers  
They know where it's at_

_Under the lake  
Under the lake  
We'll be a school of sardine  
The water will keep us all clean  
It's music to me  
What does the land have?  
A lot of sand  
We got a hot underwater assassin band!_

_Each little clam here_  
_knows how to jam here_  
_Under the lake_  
_Each little slug here_  
_Cuttin' a rug here_  
_Under the lake_  
_Each little snail here_  
_Know how to wail here_  
_That's why it's hotter_  
_Under the water_  
_Ya we in luck here_  
_Down in the muck here_  
_Under the lake!"_

"Stop that, you're rubbing my shoulders raw" he hissed to her as she'd begun to idly tap on his shoulders like a bongo drum. She pouted humorously to say that he was naturally filled with wonderful island rhythms and it was almost enough to stir a chuckle from the ridiculous notion. How could he possibly be filled with music? Honestly, the crazy little things she sputtered. Vivian ceased her shoulder tapping since having her friends altogether put her in a good mood and he turned around to compliment, "I must admit, you are rather creative with your songs."

She smiled widely with pride at achieving a thumb's up for her parody songs and was about to offer another but he ordered swiftly, "No."

"But you didn't-"

"Vivian, two are more than enough to drive me clinically insane" he intervened since there was a limit to how much he could bear before trying to claw his ears off. He kept rowing carefully until he found the area he'd decided to search first and handed the oars to Vivian for safekeeping.

"I'm going in, the item won't magically rise to meet us" he explained with a nonnegotiable tone since he needed to find something in that lake. Otherwise, the entire journey would be a waste. Egypt had yielded them the ankh within two weeks while Lake Victoria treaded into the third with no sign. He removed the leather belt around his waist with haste to remove the extra weight from his clothes and handed it to Malik. If he gave it to Vivian, let's just say it would not leave her with all of her fingers since she was one curious beaver. He handed the strap of his crossbow and the weapon also, bringing a light blush to Vivian's face when he removed his hood from his outer robes. Damn it, why couldn't he be ugly like Al Mualim or Abbas?

She shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts as he removed the sleeveless tunic that kept his inner layers in place. Her fangirl love blew its top when he handed her the light fabric with its silver hand-woven edges and she traced her fingertips over the delicate stitching. The fact that it held the beautiful billowing robes made it even more delicate in her eyes. Her petite form could fit in the thin tunic with room to spare and she folded it neatly over her lap as she sighed with worry, "Altaïr."

Plainly put, she was against the idea of him delving underwater and wanted him to reconsider. He'd barely had a month since she declared him finally fit for unsupervised swimming! That didn't mean he could dive underwater because she certainly didn't approve of it. He was an assassin, not a pearl diver! His eyes narrowed at seeing the disapproval clearly on her face and he stated firmly, "Vivian."

In Altaïr talk it meant, 'I'm doing this and you can't stop me'.

"Altaïr" she repeated irritably with a drawling hitch on the 'ï' as it translated into, 'You're risking drowning and swimming with the fishes for eternity.' Did he really not comprehend the dangers water presented? He'd lived for almost a year in fear of water and had created ridiculous names to dub the dangerous element. Had a few swimming lessons granted him the invincible god-mode when he treaded into water?

"Vivian" he reiterated with deathly calmly as he assured nonverbally, 'Everything will be fine, you'll see'.

Malik was _completely_ lost to their name game as the two carried on a private conversation with each other and asked with confusion, "Um, _Malik_?"

"Sorry, we just warped into Vivian/Altaïr nagging- the next frontier in linguistics" Vivian chuckled softly as their expressions and verbal tones had allowed them to begin creating conversations. Altaïr wasn't quite sure when it happened but they'd often used it at night when his simple grunts or utters of her name spoke for him rather than using words. As for Vivian, her facial expressions were enough to push her meaning across.

"Wait, did you two just hold an entire conversation by names alone?" the dai questioned skeptically to what had just occurred without his knowing and the two simply nodded. What else was he not privy to? He couldn't believe how far they'd come within the year and sighed with dismay, "Just when I thought I figured you two out."

"Yeah, we can't even figure each other out" she grinned cheekily and Altaïr deadpanned since the interpersonal connection was the success to be proud with, not the confusion. Oh well, her lack of coherent logic wasn't the main focus and he handed his hood to Vivian for safekeeping to add it to the bundle. She held the white cloth as if it were the Olympic torch and her lips parted in awe, whispering breathlessly, "The mighty hood of Altaïr, this is the stuff of legends! I have reached the pinnacle of an AC fan-"

He ripped it from her hands and gave it to Malik before she delved further in her fan induced rambles. Why did he have to burst her bubble?! She groaned in disillusion for losing the most prized fan possession of all time but grasped his forearm to state, "Please . . . please be careful."

"I will live to hear another of your horrible songs" he assured simply but appreciated the concern, clearly seeing it on her face. Removing his leather boots, he was certain nothing would weigh him down and jumped over the side of the canoe into the lake. The cold water broke goosebumps over his skin as the drastic temperature change was unexpected but he quickly swam to the surface. He treaded water to make sure he wouldn't sink immediately since that was his main concern and spoke through chattering teeth, "That's a bit colder than I expected."

Vivian's mother alarm went off as she watched his teeth chatter and she grasped the sides of the canoe to order, "Get out before you suffer hypothermia-"

He dove underwater to avoid her fussing and she shook her clenched hands to growl, "D'oh! Curse his dexterity and conveniently placed lake!"

All she could do was remain glued to the side of the canoe is it gently bobbed along the lake's surface and hope her friend wasn't accidentally drowning. She sighed under her breath since stressing over his well-being wouldn't be good for anyone and turned to Malik. The dai was a perfect picture of calmness as he eyed the lake quietly and she asked softly, "Is it just me or is he turning a little obsessive?"

"He's always been obsessive over something- weapons, food, shiny objects" Malik pointed out about the man quirks as Vivian saw every minute of Altaïr and his behavior. Vivian, however, worried about that quality because although it was admirable, it could bend down an ominous road. He was a hero in her eyes and she'd hate to see him turn into a Gollum creature whose obsession was the POE.

"I don't like that aspect of him" she murmured faintly since she didn't like to admit the traits of Altaïr that caused her concern. She'd promised him to never speak ill of him, especially behind his back, and wrung her fingers over her lap. He could turn downright rude when he was focused on completing a task and Vivian watched the calm water to admit, "I liked it when he was grumpy and stomped off without snapping at you."

Malik chuckled to her preference since many would run from that and asked, "You _like_ his grumpy aspect? You are the first in a nonexistent line, Vivian."

"Well, he's never going to be Mr. Giggles or a Casanova" she smiled in return since he held his own allure with his personality and had been drawn to it. He wasn't going to be laughing every day like a normal man but when he did offer a small smile, it lit up her day just to see it. Tapping her fingers against the side of the canoe, she added in, "If he did, I'd seriously worry that he has a concussion or some sort of brain damage."

The two kept their friendly conversation quiet until Altaïr surfaced with a scowl on his face and he breathed deeply to declare, "I can barely see anything down there!"

"You might have to give up on this item, technology isn't advanced enough to-" Vivian pointed out gently to make him see that their search was yielding nothing for the last two weeks. There were no clues and unless they wanted to dig into the center of the earth and destroy the forest around the lake, they would have to admit defeat.

He ignored her logic because he wasn't a quitter and dove under the water once more to avoid it. Vivian gritted her teeth in frustration since diving technology was nonexistent and he'd sooner drown than find the item. Turning to Malik, she jabbed a finger towards the empty spot the assassin had occupied and growled, "You see? He throws the logic he depends on right out the window when a POE is concerned."

"Do you really think we won't find it?" Malik asked for her input on the mission and her shoulders slumped to show nonverbal agreement. She'd never had to admit that Altaïr might be over his head since everything he did was impossible for normal human beings but this was one time he might have to call it quits. They were running in circles and the area was making Altaïr cranky and driving Malik to depression.

"If we were in later centuries, like the 20th, diving equipment would make searches more efficient" she sighed softly since that time frame had good efficiency in comparison to earlier centuries. They were in such an archaic time that not even decent goggles could be used to dive underwater and holding one's breath was the only way to delve into the deep. Altaïr had unbelievable stamina that would aid his lung capacity but he wasn't a mermaid, which worried her.

A few minutes later, her worries cemented into something worse when air bubbles broke the surface. She'd expected Altaïr to follow as it normally did when someone surfaced but nothing followed- only the movement of water. Vivian turned frantic when he didn't surface along with the bubbles as the ten second marker finished and told Malik, "I'm going in."

Tearing off her slippers to toss them aside, she pulled out the top layer of her hooded tunic from her breeches to place it on the seat. Leaving only a thin tunic without sleeves to cover the layers underneath, she dove into the blue lake to descend into the water to find her friend. Altaïr had not been kidding about the water being cold and she suppressed the urge to yelp as she swam deeper to find him. The water gave only a few feet of visibility as she searched the cold water and used her limbs as searching gear as her heart pounded.

Would she find him? Would he be all right? Questions ran rampant through her mind but that didn't deter her from going downwards. The water proved bothersome to her eyes with each passing second they were open but she was adamant to find him. She'd expected to find the man flailing with his limbs as he tried to reach the surface but a few meters down, she found him.

He was slowly sinking downwards and the lack of movement in his limbs stirred her into action. Whether by the force of nature or luck, she managed to swim her way with the speed of a little tugboat on rocket fuel to her friend. Grasping him by the arms, she shook him to see if he could move but his entire body was limp in her hold. She wanted him to open his eyes to show her a weak sign of life but she felt none with the lack of gravity in the water.

Her hands didn't release him as she swam to the surface, struggling with his weight and running out of air at the same time. Why hadn't he listened to her? Why did he always have to be the hero when the odds were heavily stacked against him? Oh, if he wasn't unconscious, she'd knock him over the head. She broke the surface, coughing loudly to clear her nose of water and breathe in large gulps of air. She moved Altaïr towards the canoe since the assassin lacked movement and she pulled herself into the boat with Malik's help. She scrambled to help her friend hoist Altaïr into the boat before she'd even landed inside and both of them pulled the man inside. Her heart beat rapidly as she grabbed his face to lean down to feel whether he was breathing but heard nothing, leading her to put her CPR classes to use.

Her pharmacist father had always required his two oldest daughters to know both emergency resuscitation and first aid in case any of their family members or strangers required aid. He was that much of a helpful person and it passed down to his daughters since Vivian held unbelievable amounts of energy. She and Natalia had grumbled all the way to the class but their father always lectured them the lessons would come in handy. It seemed she owed her father an ice cream cone once she returned and pressed her hands against his sternum.

"One of us has to push air into his mouth . . . with our lips" Vivian informed the dai as she concentrated on counting each push against his chest with the hope that he'd breathe on his own. Malik gaped in shock that she put him up as the option to do so since their society shunned such behavior. Vivian was hoping he'd offer because doing it herself would just send her spiraling down the road to 'I-Love-Altaïr Land' and didn't want that happening.

"No! We are friends but that's where the line is drawn" he stated with fright to the idea because such an event would be horribly glued in his mind for the rest of your life. It sunk all future fanfictions in Vivian's mind as she avoided seeing a lifesaving kiss between the two because hey, they were two hot men and she had no romantic life whatsoever. She'd have to put down 'see a romantic comedy' in her bucket list for when she returned home. The dai flailed his arm in all directions to avoid being pinned with the kiss of life and pointed out swiftly, "You're the woman!"

"So _I'm_ automatically the match for him? That's sexist- well, in my time, but still!" she argued shrilly since she hoped being the one doing the CPR would automatically exempt her from the list. For the first time in his life, Malik was sticking to the norms of gender roles to avoid having to breathe life into his friend inside a canoe. Assassins were not trained for this kind of thing!

The two engaged in a minor staring contest to determine who would deliver that kiss of life. With Altaïr lying prone on the floor and in dire need of aid, Vivian groaned to relent with great regret, "Fine! Maybe our entire hesitance will give him brain damage and he'll become Mr. Congeniality after this."

A few more compresses were given and the moment came to lean down but she sucked down her nerves in order to save his life. She used her hands to part his mouth and pressed her lips over his to mold them against the shape of his mouth. She couldn't risk letting any precious air escaping and exhaled into his lungs as she exhaled every last bit from her own. Releasing him, she breathed deeply to replenish the oxygen in her lungs and returned to the chest compresses as she breathed, "Come on, you're supposed to die an old man, in your bed- wait, that's Titanic. Get up, you cranky assassin! You're meant to kick Templar ass and raise little Altaïr's to unleash into the world."

_Please don't die on me, I can't bear that idea_, she pleaded frantically as she cradled his head to breathe into his mouth once more. Her teeth grazed his as she added pressure to seal their lips to prevent any air from escaping that could save his life.

The fickle mistress of fate had the last laugh on Vivian by having Altaïr spit up the water in his lungs at that very moment. Malik could easily say that it was an ugly sight and one he was glad to never experience but felt pity for his friend. Vivian fought the urge to hurl as water and saliva dribbled down her chin as she coughed loudly to make sure none of that trailed down her throat. Frantically, she wiped her lower face to be rid of the liquid sensation and gagged nauseously, "Ugh, gross!"

Malik hugged his newly revived friend with joy that he hadn't died in a watery grave while Vivian whimpered over what had just gone into her sullied mouth. Where was mouthwash when she greatly needed it? She could still taste spit! Altaïr didn't even care that he'd almost died, coughing roughly into his hand a few times to clear his throat before telling them, "I couldn't reach it. I saw a faint golden light but it _is_ there- I know it. We don't have to search anymore, it's here."

Coughing to clear his lungs once more, he breathed heavily to inform them with a hoarse voice, "I'm going back-"

_"No!"_ both of them refused immediately, pulling him back fiercely by the shoulders before he drowned himself. They had already worried for his safety since he had barely learned to swim decently and this accident would not have them jumping in agreement. Altaïr growled to being restrained and coughed to continue clearing the bothersome rough feeling in his lower throat from regurgitating water from his lungs. He would take his near death experience into consideration later but for now, he needed to focus on finding the POE.

"You almost drowned and I. . ." Vivian scolded as she almost slipped out the thought of losing him, wiping her mouth instead to stop herself from spilling anything. He was her responsibility but she couldn't lose him (twice in one day) after growing attached to the obstinate man that had pulled her feeble heart into his strong hands. Lowering her gaze, she evaded her emotions to maintain her objectivity and stated distastefully, "I really don't want to keep swapping your water spit again."

"Trust me, having my mouth violated is not an appealing thought" Altaïr muttered curtly with the same bitter tone since he wasn't in the mood for jokes. The fact that his wet clothes were making his skin cold didn't help any and he grumbled, "We need an idea."

"I vote for one that doesn't have us fishing for your corpse" Malik stated wryly and Vivian seconded his choice, leading Altaïr to grumble under his breath. He eyed open spaces that he could dive from but the two weren't relenting in their yielding hold or giving an opening. Malik had become accustomed to his behavior and kept a tight grasp on the neck of his tunic to keep him pinned as he pointed out, "There has to be a way to see underwater and if we can't, the Templars won't fare any better. If your different sight can't penetrate the deep, why should their normal eyes do so?"

Vivian clapped the dai on the back for his good reasoning and complimented, "This is why you're the smart one of the gang. If you weren't around, he'd run smack into a wall like a rabid dog just to fight it."

"Robert de Sable was not a wall" Altaïr shot back since she picked at him about the man and the fact he'd flown right at him like a flying squirrel. She'd even drawn a caricature of the event to rile him and he'd chucked it into the campfire to remove it from existence.

"Of course not . . . he was a _gigantic_ wall" she restated dryly about the tall man and placed a blanket around his shoulders to keep him warm. She'd brought it along so they could sit on it during lunch but it would be best to keep him warm until they returned home. He wasn't ready to be coddled and shrugged her hands off when she tried to adjust the blanket to tuck it closer to his neck. Vivian allowed him his freedom since it was easier to brush a wild bear's fur than tend to him at the moment. There was a lot of care on her end to keep him well but what could she do when he wanted to play a pearl diver? She grabbed the oars to begin rowing away from the spot as she took the lead while Altaïr snuggled into the blanket and Vivian suggested, "We can ask about any new inventions used for diving but if we can't find anything, we . . . might have to rethink our plan."

"Well, I'm not leaving without it" he stated stubbornly and she sighed dismally, wiping the side of her lips when she felt a droplet of water sticking to them. Eww, assassin spit. She was more than ready to brush her mouth to get the taste of lake water and Altaïr out of her mouth, mumbling softly, "Let's go."

* * *

**A/N**: It is with a heavy heart that I must say that the sequel I planned might _not_ pan out since I write all of my rough drafts on my iPad first out of convenience and during the night one week ago, the app crashed on me. I had (stupidly) decided to rough draft the entire sequel in one document so when I tried to open it again, it wouldn't. I tried my best, even through iCloud, but I couldn't retrieve the sequel so I've lost the _entire_ work in one night after countless hours. Every time I try to download or email it, it won't do so and cites 'document won't open' so I've been forced to abandon all of my work. I really did love the way the sequel was flourishing as I reached a point in the late childhood of Darim and Sef, which I planned to continue when it crashed. I hate the fact that I'll have to half-ass it now because it just won't be the same so I've taken quite a figurative punch. Thankfully, there's plenty of backups for this first story.

Aside from that horrible depressive slump, the trio will soon be ready to depart Lake Victoria since their search is not going as planned at all. Altaïr will have to bear the choice of leaving while Malik will not until he finishes his business and Vivian gets a tough dose of reality when it concerns Altaïr.

_Fuzzball_: I'm so glad you mentioned Cloud Atlas because that is one movie that actually made me cry (and it takes a lot to do so) because I really liked Sonmi (I loved 'Death Is Only a Door'). I will actually use some of the music for the next chapter since it matches the sad quality as Altaïr finally put the nail in the coffin to drive Vivian away. I really liked Cloud Atlas since it reminded me of the franchise from Altaïr's time to Desmond's as it does the same with the six interrelated characters and reincarnations. Assassins don't always have happy endings and that in itself will drive Altaïr to cherish the time he has now because it won't be the same always.

_CookiewMonstuurrr_: Thank you for loving it so much, I try my best to make a reasonably logical and hilarious story with a tad of deep human emotion to bind everyone together. The badger image was downright hilarious 'You have angered the badger. I don't know what you did but christf***, its pissed'. I couldn't stop laughing for ten minutes and thinking of Vivian made it even longer. And about Altaïr getting her mad- he's about to poke the badger in the next chapter and piss her off all the way to Mozambique. lol

_Tachibana Natsu_: I will update as soon as I can because I love this story. Hehe

_KrnYong_: Vivian is an extroverted person by nature while altaor is a maximum introverted so yes, their ways to express affection run on two different wavelength- leaving Vivian with the tough job. She's always been the type to work to earn Altaïr's approval but it is backfiring when he's doing his best to avoid falling for her but she's a tough little badger. If you think it's hilarious for poor Malik to bear with them now, he'll be in another boat when Altaïr gets a real job in Mozambique to act as a real everyday guy to fit into the town they're staying at for a month or so (Altaïr will be raging quite hard about it). Vivian did indeed move her bedding to lessen her feelings and her own upset about burning her art but she finds it quite hard to say no when he's trying his best to stay grounded from all of his work. Oh, there will definitely be a backlash as this chapter foreshadows it with him rejecting Vivian's aid rather than welcoming it.

_Lissa_: Thank you so much for loving the story, truly, since I've had quite a joy writing each chapter and am dreading ever saying goodbye to all of the characters since Ubisoft has moved on. Unfortunately, I haven't been reading a lot from the AC fandom (I'm stuck on The Hobbit fics for right now) and when I do, it's usually humor. I'm finicky over grammar and spelling (the latter which I've had a problem visually when spell check can't catch it and I will undergo testing this week, actually) but I love exploring my characters to tie them to real people like my favorite authors have.

_David meyer ny_: Thank you for enjoying the entire tale (not that it's over- not anytime soon, anyway). I've never been one to follow the storyline already told by franchise owners and I love branching away to continue the story in a new direction. I read so many retellings of the AC game with time travel OC's that I decided to write my own with Altaïr that didn't focus on it at all and took him to another continent entirely while Vivian solves why she's in his world (not time travel exactly since the old beings said it can only go forward). Vivian's songs are definitely the best quality that defines her as a unique person because I've never been one for song fics but she brings a new air to them with parodied humor. Thanks for loving the tale!

_Shadoefax_: All hail Shadowfax, wherever she is in Masyaf nowadays. I love that the humor leaves everyone in stitches and it will keep coming.

As for my guest reviewers, thank you for the comments and the story will definitely never be abandoned because of your never-ending support. As the subtle theme in this story goes, you're only as strong as the people who stand beside you and support you through thick and thin.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Not One of Us_

Whenever he did something that she didn't approve of, she didn't hesitate to voice it and it would often have the two clashing. She didn't have the time for a random argument today and waved her hands to shoo him away, "Forget it. I don't have time to argue with a man that drowned and was idiotic enough to attempt another go-"

"You want to hear me admit I was wrong? Fine!" he hissed irately because he didn't particularly enjoy abandoning a mission but did so to keep them from nagging. Vivian's shoulders squared since she hadn't expected the harsh tone behind his words and merely watched him as he scowled at her with frustration. At times like this, it was hard to see whether he was projecting anger about the mission or irritation of her. Altaïr had quite frankly become a little tired of being questioned about everything he did and pointed out sharply, "I underestimated my goal but I am courageous enough to attempt it in order to keep my brotherhood strong and if I died, my work can be carried on by another."

She clutched her hair as she wanted to yell at his stupidity for risking his life against incredibly low odds of success but the origins of that feeling delved deeper. Yes, another could carry on his work but this was Altaïr, the one who opened an entirely different world of thought to generations. He was supposed to be invincible, flawless, and almost inhuman beacon of strength with his abilities but fear struck her at knowing he was just like her- vulnerable to the world around them. She didn't want to lose him in any way and the thought of never hearing his nagging or seeing him pace around the room filled her with grief. Ashamed of the feelings lurking in her heart, she evaded his gaze to take interest in the nearby sitting stool and her voice could only mumble weakly, "But you're the grand master-"

"And my brotherhood holds the future to carry on what I start and this takes priority over their own life" he reminded since she knew the rules of his brotherhood and she nodded stiffly, crossing her arms defensively. Why did he have to be so heroic and leave her a worried mess? She was fine with it months ago when he was simply her friend but now, she didn't want to have her heart on her sleeve every time he left for danger. He was her leader and she should trust his every judgment. . .but the nagging worry never left. The past months allowed him to jot down each of Vivian's tells and her shifting emotions told him she was hiding like a newborn turtle. After today's excursion, he was ready to fish her out of that figurative shell and asked straightforward, "What is it, Vivian?"

"Why would anything be wrong? Just because you almost died decades before you're supposed to fills me with ecstatic hope for the future" she snapped with sarcasm dripping from her voice as she defended her inner emotions to the max. Her feelings for him delved deeper than she'd cared to admit at this point in the journey and although rationality told her she was acting a little crazy, she couldn't stop! She tried to keep her voice steady as she continued to chastise his recent actions, "I'm certain your descendants won't be scrambling for knowledge like lost ants just because you decided to risk it all in one moment of carelessness to become fish food."

"I decide what to do with my life" he snapped curtly since he was tired of people telling him what he had to do when he wanted to carve his own path. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe he was invincible but he believed his cause was worth dying for if he retrieved what he needed for them. One POE out of Templars hands would give his people an advantage over thwarting their efforts to control humankind.

"It's not about _you_ anymore, you have many depending on you" she stated firmly as she tried to drill it into his head that countless generations needed him. Without him, neither Ezio nor Desmond would be born- neither would dozens of generations branch off from him! She waved a hand towards Malik to emphasize his loyalty to their order and pointed out matter-of-factly, "You just said it, it's about the order and it needs you to stay alive to discover everything you're supposed to. I mean, you have a son at Masyaf, what's Maria supposed to say? 'Sorry, son, but daddy went off and drowned himself for an artifact that should- by all rights- stay underwater'."

"I'm all for peace and resolving this with indoor voices-" Malik spoke up to prevent the firestorm that was spinning out of control. He could only imagine how the two had been during his absence since they appeared ready to yell into the high heavens.

The dai's advice was ignored by the assassin as he aimed a sharp finger at Vivian and snapped briskly, "Don't bring my son into this, he is _my_ child and no concern of yours. You are not the master of my life simply because you know what will be and I make my own decisions. You will play oracle with your suggestions when _I_ ask you to and I expect you to fall in line to my orders-"

"I am not a dog to be led on a leash for your whims" she cut in furiously as this harsher side of the assassin reminded her of the man she'd feared during her first weeks. She didn't want to see this man at all and yearned to have the levelheaded friend that had taken her thoughts into consideration rather than lashing out. True, she said some snarky words a few minutes ago but he could've calmed her down just as she did when he was fussy. This time, however, she couldn't find that stable ground as he kept growing angrier like a volcano ready to burst.

"You're under _my_ command, woman, and you will obey my orders" he commanded firmly and her eyes widened to the elitist remark, blowing the top from the volcano brewing in her mind. They had been clashing repeatedly as he tried to keep his head focused on reason but this was the last straw and Vivian wasn't picking up the pieces this time. She'd accepted his apology over her work due to his honest admission of inadequacy but this felt _different_ on all levels. All she wanted to do was have her concern validated since it came from a good place but it had only headed down a very bad road to cause a monumental collision.

"Go fluff yourself" she snapped with restrained fury and walked away to throw her brush on the table before leaving the room. The resounding slam of the door told him that nothing had been resolved in any way at all.

* * *

_Thank you for reading and please, leave a review for Vivian to chew on (I can't believe we're almost at 300!). Have a great day or night across our blue planet!_


	36. Not One of Us

**Music Inspiration**: _Two Steps From Hell- "Missing Letters" _(Reminds me of the future unorthodox relationship of Altaïr and Vivian)

* * *

**Not One of Us**

* * *

After gathering information, the two assassins could learn nothing more about advanced diving in their time and were stuck with their own lungs. Altaïr tried to use the Apple in one last attempt to find the item with Malik only since Vivian would only nag him and left her behind (which he knew would end up in an argument). Unfortunately, his plan ended up _killing_ the fish life in a small radius around him when he activated the item. He earned a very long and sharp lecture from Malik about controlling the object because he liked living and they had returned home immediately. As for Vivian, they met up with her back in the room as she tried to clean her mouth furiously to be rid of any Altaïr DNA. After giving him the kiss of life earlier that day, she felt unclean with the entire experience.

"Is she still brushing her teeth?" Altaïr asked incredulously to her eccentric behavior as Vivian swished her mouth with water to spit it out over the window.

Malik chuckled as smoke billowed from his lips as he enjoyed his leisure time with his pipe and he'd earned it after the week he'd had. The dai sat on the stone table-thingie (they'd yet to make a name for it) as he watched his two friends and told him, "Well, you did throw water into her mouth in the same manner as a mother bird regurgitates food into her chick's mouth."

This brought a look of disgust to Altaïr's face since he hadn't witnessed it himself and the dai grinned cheekily, "And you're halfway to understanding."

Altaïr refused to acknowledge that slip in his expression and stood up to sigh, "I'm putting an end to it."

"You have such a way with the ladies" his friend stated sarcastically and leaned against his cushiony travel pack, wondering if he'd had to put plugs of cloth in his ears to block out an argument of theirs.

Vivian yearned for mouthwash as she scrubbed her tongue but nothing took away the taste of what she'd endured. It's not like he was riddling with disease (crap, she hoped not) but who knew what microorganisms dwelled within the water itself. Hopefully, the amylase in her mouth could kill them but highly doubted it. Yet, he had the gall to say his mouth was the violated one when she'd been the one to save his life. She should've chucked him back in the lake for the wisecrack but she'd been worried for his safety during that time. The man was stubborn as he believed himself invincible to the forces of nature and enemies themselves. Her stubborn brushing wasn't all about the germs as she tried to push back the worried thoughts of what could've occurred had she not swam in after him. The thought of losing him . . . it frightened her, not because of their friendship but. . .

No, she has to keep her head on straight. Her lingering feelings were just the fangirl reaction that was experienced when anyone entered Altaïr's orbit to revolve around him. She would eventually break free of it, especially now with his recent behavior so she'd hold onto that. If he somehow managed to allure her more . . . then she would need a whole crapload of help for that one.

"We're not stopping for another toothbrush if you waste that one" his voice spoke up behind her and she narrowed her eyes as she spit out the water, striking the ground inches from his boots. His upper lip curled in disgust to the bold action since they were in a room, not the open landscape! Where had her manners gone? He crossed his arms to show he wasn't having any of her sass today and lectured her disrespectful action, "You're the perfect picture of elegance, aren't you?"

"I never said I was the feminine type" she stated simply since being around two men practically turned her androgynous within the year. The clothing already spoke for her since she'd shed the long skirts for breeches after Egypt and wasn't keen on using them unless it was on a persona of hers. Wiping her lips clear of water, she arched an eyebrow to chide playfully about that gender line, "Especially after today, I might be tempted to sway the other way. Maria's always been a handsome woman and we are a cuddling gender."

Altaïr didn't miss the subtle hit to his manliness and snorted, "They will all prefer me to you."

"Says the scarecrow missing his brain" she scoffed sarcastically but realized she was heading into the lion's den with her arguments. Whenever he did something that she didn't approve of, she didn't hesitate to voice it and it would often have the two clashing. She didn't have the time for a random argument today and waved her hands to shoo him away, "Forget it. I don't have time to argue with a man that drowned and was idiotic enough to attempt another go-"

"You want to hear me admit I was wrong? Fine!" he hissed irately because he didn't particularly enjoy abandoning a mission but did so to keep them from nagging. Vivian's shoulders squared since she hadn't expected the harsh tone behind his words and merely watched him as he scowled at her with frustration. At times like this, it was hard to see whether he was projecting anger about the mission or irritation of her. Altaïr had quite frankly become a little tired of being questioned about everything he did and pointed out sharply, "I underestimated my goal but I am courageous enough to attempt it in order to keep my brotherhood strong and if I died, my work can be carried on by another."

She clutched her hair as she wanted to yell at his stupidity for risking his life against incredibly low odds of success but the origins of that feeling delved deeper. Yes, another could carry on his work but this was Altaïr, the one who opened an entirely different world of thought to generations. He was supposed to be invincible, flawless, and almost inhuman beacon of strength with his abilities but fear struck her at knowing he was just like her- vulnerable to the world around them. She didn't want to lose him in any way and the thought of never hearing his nagging or seeing him pace around the room filled her with grief. Ashamed of the feelings lurking in her heart, she evaded his gaze to take interest in the nearby sitting stool and her voice could only mumble weakly, "But you're the grand master-"

"And my brotherhood holds the future to carry on what I start and this takes priority over their own life" he reminded since she knew the rules of his brotherhood and she nodded stiffly, crossing her arms defensively. Why did he have to be so heroic and leave her a worried mess? She was fine with it months ago when he was simply her friend but now, she didn't want to have her heart on her sleeve every time he left for danger. He was her leader and she should trust his every judgment. . .but the nagging worry never left. The past months allowed him to jot down each of Vivian's tells and her shifting emotions told him she was hiding like a newborn turtle. After today's excursion, he was ready to fish her out of that figurative shell and asked straightforward, "What is it, Vivian?"

"Why would anything be wrong? Just because you almost died decades before you're supposed to fills me with ecstatic hope for the future" she snapped with sarcasm dripping from her voice as she defended her inner emotions to the max. Her feelings for him delved deeper than she'd cared to admit at this point in the journey and although rationality told her she was acting a little crazy, she couldn't stop! She tried to keep her voice steady as she continued to chastise his recent actions, "I'm certain your descendants won't be scrambling for knowledge like lost ants just because you decided to risk it all in one moment of carelessness to become fish food."

"I decide what to do with my life" he snapped curtly since he was tired of people telling him what he had to do when he wanted to carve his own path. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe he was invincible but he believed his cause was worth dying for if he retrieved what he needed for them. One POE out of Templars hands would give his people an advantage over thwarting their efforts to control humankind.

"It's not about _you_ anymore, you have many depending on you" she stated firmly as she tried to drill it into his head that countless generations needed him. Without him, neither Ezio nor Desmond would be born- neither would dozens of generations branch off from him! She waved a hand towards Malik to emphasize his loyalty to their order and pointed out matter-of-factly, "You just said it, it's about the order and it needs you to stay alive to discover everything you're supposed to. I mean, you have a son at Masyaf, what's Maria supposed to say? 'Sorry, son, but daddy went off and drowned himself for an artifact that should- by all rights- stay underwater'."

"I'm all for peace and resolving this with indoor voices-" Malik spoke up to prevent the firestorm that was spinning out of control. He could only imagine how the two had been during his absence since they appeared ready to yell into the high heavens.

The dai's advice was ignored by the assassin as he aimed a sharp finger at Vivian and snapped briskly, "Don't bring my son into this, he is _my_ child and no concern of yours. You are not the master of my life simply because you know what will be and I make my own decisions. You will play oracle with your suggestions when _I_ ask you to and I expect you to fall in line to my orders-"

"I am not a dog to be led on a leash for your whims" she cut in furiously as this harsher side of the assassin reminded her of the man she'd feared during her first weeks. She didn't want to see this man at all and yearned to have the levelheaded friend that had taken her thoughts into consideration rather than lashing out. True, she said some snarky words a few minutes ago but he could've calmed her down just as she did when he was fussy. This time, however, she couldn't find that stable ground as he kept growing angrier like a volcano ready to burst.

"You're under _my_ command, woman, and you will obey my orders" he commanded firmly and her eyes widened to the elitist remark, blowing the top from the volcano brewing in her mind. They had been clashing repeatedly as he tried to keep his head focused on reason but this was the last straw and Vivian wasn't picking up the pieces this time. She'd accepted his apology over her work due to his honest admission of inadequacy but this felt _different_ on all levels. All she wanted to do was have her concern validated since it came from a good place but it had only headed down a very bad road to cause a monumental collision.

"Go fluff yourself" she snapped with restrained fury and walked away to throw her brush on the table before leaving the room. The resounding slam of the door told him that nothing had been resolved in any way at all. If anything, he'd locked the door of friendship, thrown away the key, and placed a gigantic rock in front to prevent it ever opening again.

"You have now won the 'Idiot of the Year' award" Malik stated dryly with a tsk as Altaïr approached the closed door to decide whether to give chase or let her be. The dai had to agree with Vivian about Altaïr's personality change when he searched for the item and it had reached a standoff between the two. He could already imagine how tense it would be at bedtime and decided to do Vivian a favor by moving her bedding over to his side. Of course, he'd do it after dinner to prevent Altaïr from picking a fight with him as well since the man grew oddly territorial about her sleeping spot. Stepping off the stone block table since it was beginning to numb his butt, he finished sarcastically, "Stand for applause and the loss of respect by her."

"She enrages me sometimes, Malik" his friend growled heatedly as he sat down in one of the chairs next to the table piled with books to scowl at the floor. Vivian had become quite the little helper in his quest but at the same time, she involved herself too deeply over his wellbeing. In the end, he had the final say over his actions and he pointed out irritably, "She hides the truth from me by hiding behind sarcasm. She says one thing while I know she means another thought entirely and I can't budge it out of her. Why can she not confront me about it? It is cowardice!"

"You are from two different times, you are bound to clash" Malik reasoned simply since Altaïr was more prone to tackle things head on without beating around the bush while Vivian didn't. She was a passive person that would rather leave than exacerbate a situation while his friend thrived on that conflicting environment. The dai was already contemplating writing a book about social dynamics based on the two and lectured him, "But you must maintain respect for one another, there are private truths that are meant for that person alone and we can't interfere. You can't pry whatever Vivian feels or thinks simply because you want it."

"Easy for you to say, she _never_ fights with you" Altaïr muttered sourly with irritation towards the woman and a little envy towards his friend who had no trouble with her. The two were practically one step away from skipping over grassy knolls with their sickeningly perfect friendship. Why couldn't he have the same without the fighting? What made Malik so special?

_It's probably the beard, everyone trusts a man with a beard_, he thought miserably since most men wore one in their time but he was the exception. He didn't have time to waste with grooming and would rather shave everything off to save himself the hassle.

"Because we respect and learn from each other . . . and I can charm pretty women" Malik answered with a friendly smile as he joked lightly about Altaïr's lack of social skills. It took more than half a year for him to deem Vivian a trustable friend and now, they had reverted to their original hostile demeanors. As for Malik, his easygoing personality and calm demeanor tended to be more likeable in comparison to Altaïr's emotionally repressed and grumpy attitude. It hadn't been very hard to befriend Vivian as he treated her with respect and she'd been more than happy to return it.

"Arrgh, you should just marry each other and leave me be" Altaïr grumbled under his breath and Malik shook his head to the petty jab. In actuality, the idea of the two running off together left him feeling lonely and desolate. He had found a best friend in Malik after turbulent years and wasn't going to risk losing that since he'd never been the type to have friends. His only instance had been spit back at him when he admitted the truth of his father to Abbas and Altaïr had decided then and there he didn't need friends. Fast forward to a decade later and he'd found a few friends, along with a feisty little woman that kept drawing him past the platonic border.

"Stop being dramatic or I will freely admit to her that you're jealous of our friendship" Malik smirked as he played a trump card to make him quiet down before he decided to kick things. He was tired of playing a cleanup maid after his tantrums and had half a mind to chuck a book at his head when he did so.

"You . . . you're supposed to be on _my_ side!" he objected shrewdly as he turned the tables and scowled because assassins stuck together. What happened to unity? Honestly, he wondered if he was the only one that valued friendship these days. Altaïr reluctantly admitted that he was probably acting irrationally as he tried to process his flustered emotions and muttered, "And you will do no such thing."

"I'm on nobody's side because it's liable to make me insane by choosing either of you" Malik stated dryly because he had an angry eagle on one side and a pissed off badger on the other. There was no win-win and he'd be an idiot to risk it. In this case, Altaïr was in the wrong since Vivian's fretting came out of concern for him but his friend didn't see it that way. Instead, he brushed off the concern rather than accepting it and kept poking holes into Vivian's kindness. Altaïr ignored any form of expressing emotions to reciprocate what was given and Malik questioned, "Why is it so hard for you to admit feelings of any sort? It took you _seven_ years to admit you were being smug."

"I'm fickle?" Altaïr replied innocently since he never let his emotions boil to the surface and kept everyone at bay. The dai wasn't amused by his evasion tactic since he was trying to nip that specific behavior in the bud but Altaïr wasn't budging. He had already altered quite a few personality traits and wasn't keen of doing a complete overhaul, stating crisply, "Malik, you know very well how I was raised-"

"Did you also forget I grew up in Masyaf too or did a bird knock that out of your memories?" his friend pointed out since they grew up together under the same roof. Altaïr had always been the lone eagle of their cohort and although it led to an extreme arrogance, it was due to preventing attachments. Al Mualim had created a perfect protégé out of Altaïr since the young boy had looked up to him but now, he had to find a purer wisdom on his own.

Altaïr sighed aloud since he wasn't keen on talking about the past and admitted, "But you had a brother to call a true family while I never had as such. I was an only child with no parents that was taught to follow orders and when I actually found a friend to call my own, fate decided to tear that away and Abbas has never been the same. I don't fear disclosure but I am extremely cautious of what information I am handing to people but out of everyone, you are my closest friend in this world."

"That didn't seem possible three years ago" Malik agreed since he wanted the man cast out of the order like a rabid dog but time had mended those wounds. He didn't hold animosity or the need to beat him over the head and respected the new Altaïr- even if he wasn't perfect. Altaïr wasn't emotionally expressive when he needed to be, especially with a fretful Vivian, and Malik pointed out gently, "I am not Abbas and Vivian is not like all the others either. If anything, she has a greater patience for you than I do and you should consider yourself lucky because that's a feat in itself. Your secrets are always safe with me and Vivian would more than likely swallow pointy rocks before admitting anything to our enemies."

"I will let her cool her head and try again tomorrow" Altaïr mumbled flatly because the mad badger needed to cool off because when she lashed out, he tended to strike back with his own talons. A pissed off badger was not one to be trifled with so he'd let her relax and let down her guard so he could pin her for an adult conversation. He shook his head since he had more important matters to attend to if he hoped to get the POE and grabbed a nearby book as he murmured aloud, "I don't want her to be mad at me but she has to understand this is my life."

"See? Why can't you tell _her_ that in rational voice?" Malik emphasized with a sigh because the assassin snapped rather than talked when irritated. The fact that he didn't articulate his frustrations to Vivian caused chagrin for both as both parties remained in the dark.

Altaïr grumbled under his breath because he hated admitting his follies and muttered, "Because I'm a horrible speaker. Are you happy now?"

. . . "Yes. Yes, I am."

Altaïr decided that pissing off the dai by insulting him in rebuttal wouldn't end well and kept his mouth shut.

* * *

The next day brought the most uncomfortable silence Malik had endured since his spite towards Altaïr for the incident at Solomon's temple. He found himself being the peacekeeper _and_ playing messenger since Altaïr and Vivian refused to speak to each other. Altaïr had tried to speak to Vivian before bed but it had only led to another argument and Malik's previous advice was thrown out the window. The squabbling pigeons awaked to ignore each other completely and used him to pass on their words for each other. The poor dai was ready to explode if he heard one more 'would you kindly. . .' from either one as they ate breakfast in front of a vendor's home. Malik didn't even know _how_ they wound up there since he'd been ready to eat breakfast when Altaïr argued that he was tired of the same food and Vivian argued otherwise. Somehow, he was dragged to a small eatery and wedged between both of them as he longed for the two to simply shut the hell up. Thankfully, his solution came very quickly and after paying a barn owner a few coins- his trap was set.

He lured both of his friends into the stable by telling each separately that he needed an item fetched that he'd recently bought while heading out to restock on medicine. Of course, they believed the honest (with this exception) man and found themselves face-to-face inside the empty barn. Before either escaped in a huff, Malik locked them in from outside and allowed the scenery to replay like it had back in Egypt. It worked once so why not again? At least this time, he could enjoy the peace and go skip rocks at the lake.

"He locked us in a stable! That crafty one armed man, he just Parent Trapped us!" Vivian declared with outrage but then remembered she was mad at the assassin and crossed her arms to show her distaste. She could deal with an angry Altaïr but she hoped that Malik wasn't aggravated since the dai was scarier than the assassin. She respected him too much to bear an angry scowl and would redeem herself however she could. With all of her recent spats with Altaïr, she had to admit that even the dai's extremely great patience could wear thin.

"Are you really going to ignore me while I'm standing right next to you?" Altaïr scolded her standoffish attitude as he shook the doors of the barn in an attempt to open them. When he felt resistance from the other side, he assumed Malik locked them in and crossed his arms as well to match Vivian. The petite woman was looking in every direction but his and he snapped curtly, "Don't be immature, Vivian."

Vivian snorted to his words since he'd been short-tempered since his near drowning and pointed out nonchalantly, "At least I wasn't idiotic enough to jump into water after almost drowning for an inanimate object."

"It is valuable!" he reasoned matter-of-factly with squared shoulders as he marched up to her to knock her off her 'I'm right' pedestal. The POE's were the only reason he was traveling through Africa and would've rather spent his days in his homeland with other missions. The feisty woman wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for her knowledge of his life and Ilias' advice to keep her close.

"So is your life or did you forget that?" Vivian stated firmly to his crazy actions back at the lake and shook her head because she'd rather have him than the item. That thing was leading him to cold obsession and he wasn't seeing it. She wasn't backing down as she stared up at the six foot tall man that could pretty much kill her in ten ways within five seconds flat. Fear didn't flow through her because she wanted to protect him most of all and pointed out flatly, "You can be insanely heroic but sometimes plain stubborn like a mule. You're the driving force of the assassins, they can't lose you or the Templars will win a heavy advantage. Think with your head on this one, not heart."

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was many things but a _mule_ was not one of them!

"You fail to realize that you have absolutely _no_ say in my life- you are not of my order" he stated matter-of-factly but his choice of words was an inadvertent slap to the face in the form of a wakeup call for Vivian. Of course, she wasn't a part of them- merely an ally and an asset to utilize. After all, she was still a woman of the future and that automatically set a barrier between them. She'd almost forgotten that pivotal fact while traveling alongside him but he'd never made a mention of friendship since they loosened up as comrades. Only Malik had been kind to call her friend but Altaïr had only called her Vivian or by one of her dubbed nicknames- never anything else. His words about playing oracle replayed from last night and it alienated her to being deemed as such. She'd always assumed trust and friendship went hand in hand since Malik was quite amicable but Altaïr was different. He was quiet and private . . . keeping his secrets for his people alone, not outsiders.

It hurt deeply like any physically cleaved wound.

However, she accepted the words with calm grace because he was right and this was his life. She couldn't just intrude because she deemed it her business and back down from her earlier stance. Choosing to follow her own words of heart vs. brain, she swallowed the pain forming in her chest and murmured softly, "I see."

Altaïr was ready to throw his hands into the air in triumph at finally winning an argument and sighed aloud, "It's about time. I have to think about my people rather than myself."

"I . . . I just didn't want to lose you" Vivian muttered quietly to the underlying reason of her rage because he was important to her. For once, she wasn't hesitant to admit the truth but only because she realized her time was limited and his words struck hard. Although she was not part of his circle, she wanted him to stay safe in the harsh world and stated, "You've been a decent comrade and your death would bring catastrophic results to your order. I would be to blame in so many ways for interfering-"

"There is no reason to blame you for my actions" he disagreed to her self-blame and she shrugged her shoulders since they were in this mission together. She still couldn't find a decent answer as to why she'd landed in his realm/time frame but knew Madagascar was the key to home. Altaïr didn't understand why she took it upon her shoulders when he made a mistake or became injured and asked, "Why would you burden yourself with that?"

"I wouldn't be the only one, you can't be reckless" she pointed out firmly to set his head straight because if he perished, then everything would be for nothing. She didn't want him to think that merely because she was there to tell him how he'd live that he was automatically invisible. A simple shift from their original road could have the man bitten by a poisonous snake and she could've been the cause to that misfortunate alteration of time. Every day brought her worry as she watched after him more than he did over her to make sure he lived to fight another day. She would follow him anywhere and that in itself allowed her to state clearly, "Malik and I are expendable but you have to survive. You are the one who matters in the end-"

"So you'd rather I throw both of you in the water?" he demanded swiftly to the idea of doing so, especially in Malik's case. On the other hand, they both swam better than he did so that probably wasn't the best scenario to set.

She sighed to his dramatics because the man was an honorable one when it came to protection and answered, "Not Malik for obvious reasons but whatever might be deemed dangerous, _I_ will go in your stead-"

"Absolutely not" he growled to the heinous idea of sending her straight into danger for his sake. There was only one person under self-sacrifice in their team and that was himself. He would never risk either of his friends' lives and although he appreciated her dedication, she was under his care. Vivian had grown to risk her life for his wellbeing without hesitation and although he admired her loyalty, reminded firmly, "I am your leader and I will protect you both. You are the ones I fight for so if you try anything, I will hang you on a branch by your undergarments."

As their initial rage simmered, Vivian reluctantly accepted his hero idealism since there was only room for one. Plus, she wasn't exactly a key player in his decisions in life so she would stay her hand from angering him further. Regardless of his previous words, she requested quietly for his sake, "Please don't try that again, that's all I ask. I'd rather have the Templars find the damned thing than lose the head of the entire assassins order."

He sighed deeply to her request since surfacing without breathing would probably cause the poor woman a heart attack and they'd spend the afterlife together arguing over their deaths. The piece of Eden was definitely hard to reach, especially with the murky water during both day and night that barely allowed him a decent field of vision. She rarely asked anything of him and a request to keep his life intact was definitely something to ponder about. He did like living after all and a watery tomb was not on his 'best ways to die' list.

"Your mind won't budge on this?" he asked carefully and she nodded assuredly as she crossed her arms to show she meant business. It humored him since a simple shove from his end would topple her but he admired her courage to stand up to him. As much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn't have been able to do a few things throughout their journey without her help and gave her that benefit. Since he'd already won the battle for today, he gave her that wish and nodded lightly to mutter, "You're a tough badger to negotiate with."

"Well, this badger needs to keep the stubborn eagle alive and kicking" she replied simply as the humorous nicknames that usually brought her delight seemed to darken into melancholy. His words about being an outsider hit hard since she tried her earnest to forget her home to prevent opening that painful gate. She wasn't anything special to him, just another piece in his chess game to win the pieces and had to get used to that. Well, nobody really wanted to fall into the horrible Sue hole of being a snowflake but Vivian had fallen quite hard in the affectionate sense for him.

"Truce?" he asked to maintain the peace since he didn't want to fight with her again and hated the area for bringing out the worst side of him. Vivian was the one he depended on to keep him sane when a plan blew up in his face and wished he could articulate just how much he appreciated it. Her worries infuriated him at times but in his heart, he knew it was out of genuine concern and he cherished having that honor.

Unfortunately, he'd yet to see the devastating results of his previous words.

Vivian nodded quietly and grasped his hand in one of hers to seal the deal while the other landed a punch to his stomach. Altaïr exclaimed to the unexpected move since she was usually docile about their agreements or uttered a witty reply. She smirked to seeing his apparent annoyance to being struck and smiled impishly, "Truce."

"The point of a truce means a _ceasefire_, woman" he scolded swiftly but her strike hadn't done any harm due to the leather belt around his lower abdomen. If anything, it felt more like a swat with her strength. On the other hand, he considered himself lucky because she could've attempted kicking him between the legs and there was no protection there.

"Fine, if you must have it your way" she agreed airily because she would've felt better adding a few more swats. Her usual open trust with him would have to be closed for now to shield herself from more harsh realities from his end.

* * *

After realizing that the item was unreachable without Altaïr risking his life, the trio backtracked their entire mission to address the problem. While they pondered on what to do next, Malik was certain as to where he'd focus the rest of his mind to: the slaves. His imprisonment had allowed him to watch the squalor they lived in and the meager food they were given for whatever manual labor they provided. It was a disgusting business that should be eradicated from the very earth along with tyrants that oppressed people with the false ideal that they were ruling for their interests.

Vivian had slowly distanced herself from Altaïr in the hope that he wouldn't notice the change and she realized just how deeply involved she was with him. Her day began with greeting him and it ended watching him slump into bed- it had been _that_ intricate. It wasn't easy budging her way out of that comfortable zone but she managed to stop hovering over his shoulder and began to sketch again (no Altaïr images this time). During one of those free times, she caught sight of her dai friend just as he'd been leaning over a map of a specific area of the lake.

"Malik, I really don't want to fly out of a window again" she murmured sullenly to the idea of having to rescue him again from that horrible place. She wasn't made to do gravity defying acts and wanted to leave all of that to them. Her brain was out of thought farts on how to rescue an entire group, much less make sure that the slavers didn't chase them out with brandished swords. Her lips pouted humorously to the thought of being chased like a wild animal and stated sullenly, "I'm out of magical seeds and I doubt my magical tricks will help."

"No, we need a little finesse for this" the dai assured as looked over his map since his lockpicking skills would be handy for releasing the slaves. However, the lack of knowledge of how to travel in the area would lead the freed people nowhere without his help. He would need to show them how to escape the area by either traveling north in the Nile or on foot.

Altaïr respected his ideal for a free world but at the same time, he'd rather work at finding a plan than getting jailed or killed by furious slavers. Although he worked for a world free of tyranny and Templars, he couldn't save everyone along the way and knew sacrifices had to be made. He lowered the book he'd been reading as he tried to make an idea that would solve Malik's heroic dilemma and pointed out, "Quite frankly, I don't know why we can't simply eliminate everyone in their sleep. There's three of us- it only take one person to slit someone's throat while another keeps their mouth closed."

"What if there's two or three people in a tent?" Vivian asked uncertainly since they probably liked to save space and rake in money. Evildoers and Templars were cheap like that, after all. Poor Desmond had gotten a crappy single bedroom in a modern corporation that probably had a large luxurious suite at the top for its CEO. She didn't want to accidentally step on someone and have them wake up the entire camp, not to mention lose a foot. There was also another hindrance to killing an entire slaver camp and she asked curiously, "Their ships will also be nearby and if they discover an annihilated camp, people will start asking questions."

"If we leave soon after, it will be of no trouble" Malik reasoned since his idea was to do that once the whole issue with the POE was over. Nobody would remember who he was if he kept himself concealed and Vivian and Altaïr had gotten a good rap as buyers so they'd be in the clear. No tracks would lead back to them and if they did, they would be dealt with permanently.

"We can eliminate the entire camp and let the slaves roam free" Altaïr pointed out again with emphasis since it was the simplest plan. How much easier could he make it? Malik quickly argued that letting them go without any idea of where to go was suicide. These were people that had spent most of their lives led around like animals but Altaïr stated crisply, "I agreed to free them, where they go afterwards is _not_ my problem-"

"Altaïr" Vivian stated sharply with surprise to his attitude because she agreed with the dai. She'd grown to admire Altaïr for his actions to save the world but his tone threw her aback. You almost had to poke him with a hot stick to help a group and Vivian would try her best to change that about him. She was tempted to throw one of her own books at his head and pointed out earnestly, "They're children in this world, like me. They have never known what making a decision for themselves is like and they need guidance of where to go. This open world is just as frightening as being in servitude. Imagine if you'd been cast out of the order that day after Solomon's Temple, how would you have rearranged your life after that?"

Altaïr groaned with disgruntlement because she had a way of making him feel guilty. That woman would be the end of him one day but she had a point, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Still, he made his irritability clear by muttering under his breath, "Out of all the women through the ages, I had to get the selfless historian that nags me to be ridiculously virtuous. I should kick you, you know."

"All right, so we're in business" she piped up cheerfully while simultaneously ignoring his smart-alecky comments. The broody assassin merely narrowed his eyes to show his lack of amusement but it only served to widen her giddy grin.

* * *

**A/N**: I decided to update faster with a shorter chapter by splitting it in half so things aren't too fast paced but if you guys like the super long chapters, I can do that too. After this, there's only one more chapter and the group is done in Lake Victoria. As we can see, Altaïr and Vivian just reached a breaking point and he said some pretty harsh words that he'll definitely regret in the long run. They'll be traveling south to Mozambique and Vivian will be doing her best now to avoid emotional ties and we can see that's what Altaïr has slowly been sliding towards. I wish I could give Malik that Nobel peace prize for dealing with Altaïr like a parent.

_Devicorn_: I'm glad you loved Under the 'Lake', I had a fun time thinking of the lyrics to fit their lifestyle. Altaïr is silly with his stubbornness to succeed to the max and when Vivian calls him out on it, he lashes out to protect is bravery. We definitely couldn't abandon Malik but being an assassin, he's quick to tell them he had everything under control. Lol. Vivian can be very crafty and we've seen little glimpses of it until the last chapter when she went all out to save her friend. Losing my story definitely put me in shock, then rage, sadness, and finally, acceptance (just like the grief process). This recent spat that left Vivian surprised to his misinterpreted meaning will last quite a bit but it will be resolved to flourish their little romance scenes.

_Spirit Kiss_: In every game, we have some odd glitches or annoying bystanders that make us angry. Lol. #1 had the peasant women on Altaïr, #2 had those lute playing guys on Ezio (who got his revenge in Revelations), #3 had the orphan kids chasing Connor.

_shadowelf144_: Thanks, I'm better now that time's passed. Vivian can definitely bluff and hope for the best. She's not afraid when she can depend on Altaïr and will head into a figurative lion's den to see a mission done.

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: I haven't abandoned the sequel (yay), I picked myself up and purged everything I could remember into another document and backed it up this time. The last chapter was as suspenseful as it was humorous, which is how I want the max pace to be for this story. Vivian definitely has an artistic skill and just as all of the characters have been developing, so have her drawings (as well as Altaïr's). That reminds me, I need to post a sketch on my DeviantArt account of Vivian teaching Altaïr to draw better. Lol

_Hollownature_: It's hilarious how close they've become that it leaves Malik flabbergasted. As much as they argue, Vivian and Altaïr will definitely love each other by the end but maintain that humorous fluff of theirs (which probably would seem unimaginable with a man like him). I like one of the future quotes for him '_he wanted to grow old alongside her to lecture their grandchildren about not sticking beans up their nostrils and feeding a few chickens on the land that kept them company'._

_KrnYong_: I adore Two Steps from Hell but thankfully, my friends share a love for all music. Vivian is a crafty badger indeed and she'll keep pulling off hilarious ploys as their adventure continues. She has her own set of growing skills and although she won't be any kind of assassin, Altaïr will love her anyway for the strength she shows with her intelligence. Altaïr is lousy at flirting due to his inexperience with it and we'll see much of it as the story goes on but he does have his adorable moments. We'll see the jealous side of him when Vivian manages to snag a man's attention and she doesn't reject him. I will be making a sequel because it is important to the continuation of the VivianxAltaïr romance arc to see where they end (don't know if fans will like it if I take it literally to their deaths because I do have her dying before Altaïr and they're so darn cute together) and the future generation in their place. Who will deny the cuteness of Darim searching bushes to see if cakes grow in them and Sef picking Altaïr's pockets for loose change to buy snacks? Lol

_WhatTheCensoredXD_: Thank you for loving the hilarity in the chapter, it was quite funny with Vivian's seeds. Whenever death situations arise, humor will stir between the trio and a life kiss definitely counts.

_Beba santos 56_: Vivian finds a humorous way to sum up the entire franchise's lineage with little Altaïr's' unleashed to last a millennium. Thank you so much for loving every minute of it!

_Lissa_: Thanks for enjoying each humorous chapter, I'm glad to hear what my readers think of the story and any ideas they might have.

_Fuzzball_: The awesomeness sprouts randomly at times but Vivian's taken a life of her own with her shenanigans. TV shows and films give me ideas as well; I like this rerun from Seinfeld that I saw and reminded me of Altaïr telling a story, '_As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way!'_

_CookiewMonstuurrr_: Oh yeah, he angered the badger indeed and she'll be holding it for quite a while. I suck at drawing humans and I was even worse before but I took a class to make my skills better (I was just like the grumpy Altaïr). I would've loved to take more but the seating made my shoulder blades hurt since I have joint problems so I gave it up. I love writing so I stuck with it and I'll keep at it since the trio is hilarious.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Triumph and Defeat_

They had decided to call it quits on that piece of Eden since nothing could reach its depths and Altaïr sold the canoe that had served them faithfully for the last year and month. Vivian had clutched it like an old friend ready to depart to the next world but a pinch to the ear from Altaïr sent her running. Malik bargained the sale of their canoe with his charismatic skills and with the money received, they bought two sturdy camels for the travel south to Mozambique. Their next route would tricky as they would keep to the coast to find a port to north Madagascar while fighting back the wildlife that roamed the three lands they were about to travel through. Vivian was eager to see Tanzania due to its wildlife but Altaïr wasn't keen on meeting any of it.

Altaïr finished tying his travel pack onto his new tawny camel for the first ride into the center of Kenya. They would enter the unsettled land halfway before venturing south into Tanzania and head straight down the coast to Mozambique. For the first time, he was looking forward to continuing their adventure since Lake Victoria didn't exactly leave him with the best reputation. The gloomy weather hadn't helped either and he sighed with relief as he looked over his shoulder towards the lake, "No more water travel for the next months, I've never been happier. I think I could even smile at this."

"The world will fall into chaos the second you show it" Malik joked lightly with a chuckle to the rarity of seeing such an expression on his friend's face. The man had a permanent frown or piercing stare that left most frozen in place and seeing a mere smile contained the same rarity of catching a rainbow after a storm.

Vivian checked her pack carefully to make sure all of their food was sealed tightly and buried it deeply in the leather pockets of the saddle of the camel. She didn't need animals to come sniffing around their primary food supply nor try to eat her new camel. Altaïr turned to his partner since he'd automatically assigned her to ride with him rather than Malik and asked, "You're not sharing in our laughter?"

"You guys go ahead, I have to make Buttercup predator-free" she replied simply as she rubbed the side of the camel's neck with a fond smile to her new teammate. There would be a requirement to shield herself from Altaïr as her emotions flared erratically around him and decided to put a limit on her daily interactions with him. It would be hard but the recent arguments between them had put a damper on their acquaintance, especially after being pinned an outsider. She didn't want her heart to be broken worse as she traveled and kept her mind on the objective to avoid it, "The south of Africa carries dangerous predators that aren't restricted to water and I don't plan on being their next meal. I'm not about to be caught off-guard by a hungry lion or a cheetah- shame there's no catnip."

"Perfect" Altaïr muttered wryly because with his luck, he'd be fighting one of those things. He'd already fought his way through quite a few animals and it was enough for him to never revisit the continent- except maybe Egypt. Was it too late to charter a trip to head to Asia instead? He wasn't going to alter his plan any more since the stay in Lake Victoria was longer than expected and quickly reminded them, "Everybody better use the outhouse because I will not be making stops."

Vivian shook her head to his role as patriarch/leader of their bunch and placed her foot on the stirrup to climb onto the camel. Her first lesson on horseback riding from Altaïr had not been forgotten despite being on water travel for a year and she smiled with success to landing on the tall animal. Since she'd become stuck with him as her riding partner, she patted the back of the large saddle and beckoned him with a smirk, "Get on, big daddy, before I leave you to become Tarzan."

Altaïr groaned to her strange babble as he wondered if he would ever understand any of it but another thought pushed that out. When did he ever take the backseat of anything? Crossing his arms, he pushed his weight onto one leg to show who was the boss of their team and brought up nonchalantly, "I think you're forgetting _who_ is leading that camel."

* * *

_Will Malik manage to save the slaves? Or will Altaïr and Vivian have to save him again? Will Altaïr realize his words or be ignorant of them until they bite him in the butt? And what will become of Buttercup and Vivian? Find out next time!_

_Thanks for reading, my dear readers, and please leave a review that Vivian can chew on while I finish editing the next installment of the story. :)_


	37. Triumph and Defeat

**Music Inspiration**: Jesper Kyd- _"Chase Theme"_ and Hans Zimmer & John Powell- _"Panda Po"_ (Altair and Vivian in a nutshell, right? lol)

* * *

**Triumph and Defeat**

* * *

Vivian had never been so in awe and fear as she watched Altaïr and Malik at work during the middle of the night. They had infiltrated the camp by eliminating the guards at the weak area of the perimeter where they sought entrance and hid the bodies in carts or crates. One by one, Altaïr subdued the sleeping men while Malik slit their throats in the quickest death possible (when a direct strike to the heart wasn't reachable). At times, the two were efficient enough to switch roles as a mere flick of Altaïr's wrist ended the life of another person. Vivian couldn't even fathom how easy it was for them to process all that death since it definitely put a hamper to her morale compass. It was a good thing she wasn't assassin material and had chosen to play the lookout to keep her from being nauseous.

Slowly, they had slipped into each tent one by one to eliminate the inhabitants until they made their way to the slave pens. It had taken a few hours to assassinate everyone in camp and the two guards protecting the owner that Vivian had given seeds to were disposed easily. Altaïr had complained about finding an easier way to eliminate two targets in one attack and she hoped the light bulb for the dual hidden blades would sprout. Malik had reserved the right to eliminate the owner but he wouldn't gloat or disrespect the dying man since each man would bear the consequences of their actions. Vivian's kleptomania had inclined her to steal the nice silk sheets from the tent but they were from the dead so she wasn't about to be haunted for theft.

Also, there was a slave inside.

They had realized this after Malik had killed the man and out of fear of their own death, a thin African woman had cowered in the back of the tent. She didn't know any form of escape except to curl into a ball to avoid the same fate after hearing the man's dying gurgle. Vivian sympathized with her immediately due to their shared gender and her thin form (not to mention the heinous things men did to women). Women would not have an easy life until the late 20th century and she stepped forward with her hands raised to show she was no threat.

Due to her unknown ability to understand language of all forms, she kept a calm voice as she spoke softly, "We are not here to harm you, only to free you from the shackles of oppression. This is no life for you to live so please do not cower."

The shaking woman peered at the English woman with the strange accent standing in front of the men, noticing her dominant position at the head of the group. When had a woman ever been at the forefront of anything? She was still wary of them since she'd seen the women of the town eye her and other slaves with disdain. Vivian, however, merely leaned down to grab one of the bloodless sheets to wrap them around her frail shoulders as she noticed the woman's malnutrition. Quite a few slaves suffered having adequate food since most of it went to the preferred or strong slaves. Gently, Vivian continued coaxing her from the corner of the tent, "Please, come with us to help free the others from this place. We will not put you in any harm but we need you to reassure them everything will be fine. There isn't much time."

A few moments of silence passed as Vivian allowed her to grasp her words and finally, her distressed tone answered her, "I . . . we have no home."

"You will find a new place to call home" Vivian promised firmly as she swiped the pouch of money that Altaïr had nabbed for himself out of his hand. Why was it that his hard-earned loot was always taken? The assassin uttered a small complaint before both of his companions glared at him and he reluctantly obeyed. They might be piss poor already but they had clothing and each other for support while the slave had nothing. Vivian placed the pouch into her shaking hands to show that a new life was possible and instructed carefully, "You will grab whatever you can use or sell off and we will lead you to the ferries in the east to take north in the Nile to find safe refuge. You must leave this place by road or water by sunlight to avoid detection from anyone that had an association to this camp."

Vivian led the woman out of the tent by the hand to assure her she'd be there every step of the way. Altaïr found it humorous to see the taller and thinner slave being led by the shorter and curvier- ahem, adequately proportioned- woman and heard her reassure, "This is no life for you and a woman deserves more respect than this."

"What. . .is your name?" the slave asked tentatively since she'd never dared herself to ask a question until that very moment. She had been forced to listen and obey and any form of thought was either beaten or starved out of her. Vivian squeezed her hand in support that she'd do neither and offered a smile as the torches burned around camp.

"My name is Vivian" she smiled kindly to show she meant no harm and the young slave offered a weak smile at earning such friendliness from another. Her thin finger pointed towards the closest caged slaves and hoped that her life as a servant to another would end, even if for just a moment. Social interaction with non-slaves had been nonexistent but the pale woman only served to reassure her worries of failure.

"I've never had a name" the slave admitted since she'd been in servitude since childhood and could only remember items being flung in her direction. With determination, she led the trio towards the majority of the cages on the east side and admitted faintly, "Vivian is a pretty name. I. . .could I have a name?"

"Of course you can! You can be Vivian Jr, Rila, Nadira, Buckeye Jane or plain Wildflower!" Vivian encouraged with an enthusiastic smile while the men grimaced to the suggestions. _Nobody_ should be called Wildflower. Altaïr hoped that if Vivian ever dared to bring little badgers of her own into the world, she'd give them decent names like Ahmad, Sef, or Hasif. Well, she'd probably give them something English based like Richard, Mary, or Samuel- but still, very normal names.

In the end, Vivian's soothing encouragement helped the assassins locate the first pens to pick the locks open. In Altaïr's case, he had been hasty to finish the mission that he almost broke one lock- but not before Malik smacked him away with a 'novice' chastising. The meek woman (Wildflower, as Vivian began to call her) reassured her fellow slaves that everything was fine and although many were skeptical of receiving any kind of aid, they accepted it. It was heartbreaking for Vivian to see since many didn't know how to truly live a life and their apprehensive eyes towards their environment only confirmed it.

Malik was amazing- no, that was an understatement- _magnificent_ as he worked each of the locks with ease with his simple tools. The man would've made the world's best thief if he'd decided to loot the greedy and give to the needy. The dai had actually done so when he had both arms but after his accident, it had been another skill that had been cast away. While she and Altaïr stared at a tough lock with confusion, the dai had it open with his magic fingers in under a minute. He gathered all of the slaves from each pen, making sure that they wouldn't forget anyone in the camp.

"If you told me I'd be scrambling to free slaves back at Masyaf, I would've hit you for interrupting my plans" Altaïr muttered as he fiddled with the lock to open it carefully and groaned when Vivian smacked him on the back. What was it with her constant smacking to his logical reasoning? The sudden physical touch caused him to jolt as his concentration broke and his left cheek struck the cold metal bars. Great, his night had just gotten lousier.

"Serves you right" she mumbled dryly to his attitude about helping people and avoided being swatted herself when he turned around swiftly. Since this wasn't the time to bite into each other, she allowed him to carry on with his task and focused elsewhere.

Vivian began to lead the freed slaves towards the east where the ferries and caravan routes were located while the two finished opening the last cages. She didn't want them staying in the west where they could be caught and departing caravans in the morning would help them blend with their escape. The slaves were quite apprehensive to journey into the new world laid before them but Vivian had urged them to strip everything from the camp to call it their own. She'd even managed to snag a nice purple fabric for a makeshift toga to keep Wildflower warm in the cold night. Shoes, tunics, food, and other amenities were found and each person carried or wore their new possessions.

"Nothing spells a job well done like mayhem and looting" Vivian smiled proudly as she placed her hands on her hips to sigh dramatically with pride. She hadn't hesitated to lend Malik a hand and for the first time since starting on her journey, felt that Lake Victoria helped flourish her skills. She'd lied like a thief, jumped out of a building, groped an assassin, and helped people escape- something she wouldn't have done earlier. Only one of her game characters could create such disarray and she asked aloud with confusion, "Wait, aren't we supposed to blend into the shadows?"

She yelped when both men grabbed her to literally blend into the tents littering the camp as they escaped.

Nothing was impossible with two assassins and a quirky historian on the job and Malik left the abandoned demolished camp with a lighter heart. His only gnawing worry was that slaves could have been held inside the ships at dock but Vivian doubted it since the owners would've wanted to have access to their 'merchandise'. Altaïr, however, would beg to differ about his karma with the bruise forming on his cheek. He was tempted to slam Vivian up against a wall to have her feel the same but quickly discarded it because it would appear highly inappropriate. Vivian and Malik played diplomats as they led the twenty freed slaves away into the night and since they managed to swipe a wagon and two tame horses, the ride was easier. The most frail and malnutritioned ex-slaves were placed in the wagon while Altaïr led the horses to keep them quiet in the night. Vivian and Malik walked with the rest as they explained the road they would follow east to travel onto the Spice Road and would open up to the Trans-Saharan and Silk routes.

"But what if we get lost?" Wildflower asked her rescuer since a single road could lead them to death and eyed the darkness suspiciously. She didn't know how the man in white managed to lead the horses perfectly over the roads but he did. Vivian had originally felt the same in his presence back in Masyaf until she realized he used his eagle vision to guide their path in the night.

"Just keep to this road and when it branches or you meet merchants, ask for directions to the north" Malik instructed carefully since they couldn't leave with them to help due to their mission. In any event, they weren't keeping to the roads themselves because they were heading in the opposite direction to the south. He didn't want to leave them lost in the dark (no pun intended) in their new world and deliberated, "Sell whatever you won't need for food or medicine but keep the wagon for transportation. If any of you wish to take the ferries, you can wait with us to board but know that they will travel through the western side of the lake again to leave into the Nile. It will leave you vulnerable to being enslaved if they find you."

When she asked what their names were in order to thank them for the chance to escape, he replied, "I am Malik and my friend there is Altaïr."

"Who also happen to have very pretty names too" Vivian smiled helpfully since she would've liked to help them on the road but her mission was Altaïr's.

When they reached the empty road of the caravans leading to the east, Malik gave them final instructions once more and asked for those who wanted to risk the ferries. Thankfully, none attempted and he advised them that they should try ferries along the coast of the east once they reached the multiple trade routes. Altaïr considered himself lucky for having two people very well versed in maps and directions because he would've simply pointed them somewhere and hoped for the best. He wasn't the greatest with locations which is why he always climbed the tallest structures to create a mental visual map for himself as guidance.

Vivian wished them the best of luck and advised them to keep to themselves the whole way north. Wildflower thanked them for the kind aid since she didn't want to live out a life in servitude and hoped for a better end. Vivian waved to them in farewell just as the light tints of lilac-grey began to filter into the sky and smiled serenely at her companions, "We did good."

"Yes, we did, Cornflower" Altaïr agreed reluctantly because everyone deserved the same freedom, even if he was dragged along to do it. Vivian frowned to his wordplay since she was the quirky one but allowed it to slide because it was a beautiful flower. With that matter settled completely, he wanted to avoid the aftermath that the associates from the ships would realize later that day and rallied his team, "Let's go before we incriminate ourselves."

The sun would rise an hour later but the trio and the rescued slaves would be long gone by then.

* * *

Within a few days, they had decided to call it quits on that piece of Eden since nothing could reach its depths and doubted Templars could fare any better. Altaïr gladly sold the canoe that had served them faithfully for the last year and month over the river of death. Vivian had clutched it like an old friend ready to depart to the next world but a pinch to the ear from Altaïr sent her running. Malik bargained the sale of their canoe with his charismatic skills and with the money received, they bought two sturdy camels for the travel south to Mozambique. Their next route would tricky as they would keep to the coast to find a port to north Madagascar while fighting back the wildlife that roamed the three lands they were about to travel through. Vivian was eager to see Tanzania due to its wildlife but Altaïr wasn't keen on meeting any of it. If anything, he'd been sharpening his hidden blade and dagger just at the thought of meeting a predator out there.

Vivian counted her fat pack full of food, clothes, books, and hygiene products since living in the wild wouldn't be easy again. By the end of her restocking, she was certain she'd bought every sanitary produce available for her monthly friend. She had become accustomed to the month at the inn but her life wouldn't be an easy one until she returned home. The thought of it stirred a bittersweet melody at the happy thought of seeing her loved ones but abandoning her companions. Would she bear the leave knowing that another happy door would open for her?

Watching the two new camels in place of their old canoe, Vivian sang softly,

"_On the road again -  
Just can't wait to get on the road again.  
The life I love is making mayhem with my friends  
_

_And I can't wait to get on the road again.  
On the road again_

_Goin' places that I've never been._  
_Seein' things that I may never see again_  
_And I can't wait to get on the road again._  
_On the road again -_

_Like a band of wolves, we make a getaway_  
_We're the best of friends._  
_Hoping that the world keeps turning our way_

_And our way  
is on the road again.  
Just can't wait to get on the road again.  
The life I love is makin' mayhem with my friends_

_And I can't wait to get on the road again.  
On the road again- _ow!_"_

A swat to the back of her head silenced her and she didn't have to guess who that hand belonged to.

Altaïr finished tying his travel pack onto his new tawny camel for the first ride into the center of Kenya. They would enter the unsettled land halfway before venturing south into Tanzania and head straight down the coast to Mozambique. For the first time, he was looking forward to continuing their adventure since Lake Victoria didn't exactly leave him with the best reputation. The gloomy weather hadn't helped either and he sighed with relief as he looked over his shoulder towards the lake, "No more water travel for the next months, I've never been happier. I think I could even smile at this."

"The world will fall into chaos the second you show it" Malik joked lightly with a chuckle to the rarity of seeing such an expression on his friend's face. The man had a permanent frown or piercing stare that left most frozen in place and seeing a mere smile contained the same rarity of catching a rainbow after a storm.

Vivian checked her pack carefully to make sure all of their food was sealed tightly and buried it deeply in the leather pockets of the saddle of the camel. She didn't need animals to come sniffing around their primary food supply nor try to eat her new camel. Altaïr turned to his partner since he'd automatically assigned her to ride with him rather than Malik and asked, "You're not sharing in our laughter?"

"You guys go ahead, I have to make Buttercup predator-free" she replied simply as she rubbed the side of the camel's neck with a fond smile to her new teammate. There would be a requirement to shield herself from Altaïr as her emotions flared erratically around him and decided to put a limit on her daily interactions with him. It would be hard but the recent arguments between them had put a damper on their acquaintance, especially after being pinned an outsider. She didn't want her heart to be broken worse as she traveled and kept her mind on the objective to avoid it, "The south of Africa carries dangerous predators that aren't restricted to water and I don't plan on being their next meal. I'm not about to be caught off-guard by a hungry lion or a cheetah- shame there's no catnip."

"Perfect" Altaïr muttered wryly because with his luck, he'd be fighting one of those things. He'd already fought his way through quite a few animals and it was enough for him to never revisit the continent- except maybe Egypt. Was it too late to charter a trip to head to Asia instead? He wasn't going to alter his plan any more since the stay in Lake Victoria was longer than expected and quickly reminded them, "Everybody better use the outhouse because I will not be making stops."

Vivian shook her head to his role as patriarch/leader of their bunch and placed her foot on the stirrup to climb onto the camel. Her first lesson on horseback riding from Altaïr had not been forgotten despite being on water travel for a year and she smiled with success to landing on the tall animal. Ha-ha! So she was learning! Since she'd become stuck with him as her riding partner, she patted the back of the large saddle and beckoned him with a smirk, "Get on, big daddy, before I leave you to become Tarzan."

Altaïr groaned to her strange babble as he wondered if he would ever understand any of it but another thought pushed that out. When did he ever take the backseat of anything? Crossing his arms, he pushed his weight onto one leg to show who was the boss of their team and brought up nonchalantly, "I think you're forgetting who is leading that camel."

"You've yet to teach me and I'm pretty tired of playing luggage so hop on before Buttercup and I ride off into the sunset without you" she shot back smartly since he usually grumbled when she wanted to learn something and pointed to the seat behind her. He'd fought her tooth and nail for horse riding lessons . . . usually because she'd tried to ride him like a horse more than once. She swung her shoulders back with a sly grin that almost bordered on haughty and teased him, "Unless you're threatened by a woman?"

The arrow struck the ego dead center and he hopped on with a reluctant grunt to show her who wasn't afraid of her. Women were daunting creatures but he'd never admit it at all and grabbed onto her waist to accustom himself to this rare instance. He didn't like finding himself on the passenger seat for the first time and struggled to balance that lost leadership role. Vivian grinned at directing her first camel since she'd never ridden the front seat and whistled enthusiastically, "All aboard! The train headed to central Kenya has now boarded. Hang on to your hoods, people."

"You're insane" he muttered as he fought to sigh at her antics and gazed over her left shoulder to the land awaiting them. There were roads created in the grasses from incoming caravans and they would use one before branching off on their own to avoid detection.

She gave him a sidelong glance that deadpanned to his comment and pointed out innocently, "Yeah, as a loon, you should now that by now. It takes one to know one so we're two irregular peas in a misshapen pod."

He grasped her forearms to get her started on the right path since he wasn't looking to fall off (or injuring the innocent camel) and she chastised, "Hey, I'm a delicate little lady in need of camel lessons here. Be a gentleman, coconut head, before I go boom-boom-kick on you."

"You're anything but delicate and this _is_ my gentlemanly side, wench" he retorted sarcastically to her impish ways since an innocent woman was not what he would call her. She'd already ventured where no woman had (not counting Maria and a few others) without his willingness, although the incidents were accidents, but her silly lecherous comments were another matter entirely. He didn't have enough fingers to count the numerous times she'd made him exclaim or turn red to her adulterated jokes.

She tsked under her breath as she carefully moved the camel in a slow trot to become accustomed to the land. Thankfully, it was flat for the time being but slopes and rocky terrains would have to be handled by Altaïr since she didn't hold enough confidence to risk it. She scoffed under her breath to his declaration since his gentlemanly side needed some serious tune-up work and commented, "Dear Thor, what do women see in you? Is there a genetic defect that gravitate women into the direct orbit of a grumpy assassin?"

_What do I see in you?_, she chastised herself on a personal note because she couldn't chase away her feelings. Trying to find the ludicrousness for feeling that way, she attempted to stomp them out by rationalizing, _Fine, he's the heroic, grumpy badass with piercing eyes that melt me into a pile of goo. Not to mention, he has a butt that would be the iconic model for underwear companies. Oy, you've dug yourself into quite a hole there, girlie._

Malik laughed from up ahead as he took the lead in directing their troop with Altaïr's marked directions from the map the night before. The dai had grown comfortable enough with his handicap to perform everyday things and if he could fight with the same capabilities as a man with two arms, he was pretty damn good at survival. Plus, it would allow him to drone out any little jabs or squabbles from the two pecking hens behind him. Vivian grinned for the little jab aimed to deflate the man's ego and held her head high with pride until Altaïr's voice tickled the back of her left ear, "You tell me. What do you see?"

This brought a case of severe blushing out of nowhere for the sudden question and the inside of her clothes turned into an instant sauna. Clearing her throat, she tried to cool herself by sheer willpower but failed horribly when his rough fingers trailed over the top of her hands to grasp the reins. Beside the fact that his fingertips were like newly bought sandpaper, the livening touch immediately caused her to jolt involuntarily and it unbalanced her on the camel. Thankfully, the dirt was soft from rain the previous night and lacked rocks when Vivian fell off completely and landed on the ground flat on her back. She was quick enough to protect her head first with her arms but it still didn't help her feel better about falling or allowing him to cause such an impact.

Malik stared with wide eyes to the fallen woman and looked to Altaïr as the culprit. The grand master merely shrugged since he hadn't expected such a reaction from the quirky woman and watched her limbs twitch in the air before she lay still to play opossum. He couldn't help but make the first joke of the journey to Malik as he smirked to state with mirth, "I have that effect on women. They swoon."

Vivian awakened from the dead opossum trick because _she_ was the funny one and didn't want him to figure out that specific truth. If he realized that his joke was actually spot on, that would drive a further wedge between them. She defended her dignity because she certainly wouldn't be doing any swooning of any kind and smiled cheekily from her prone position, "Then Maria must've had some pretty bad brain damage by the time she agreed to have your demon baby."

Her cheeky grin widened to the glare he shot her way since she could see his entire face from underneath his hood from her spot on the ground. Whenever she thought he couldn't make a different cranky face, he proved her wrong. She sat up with a groan to the sting of pain in her backside and raised her arms to declare with an innocent frown, "I need upsies. You caused this so remedy it."

"You have five seconds to get up before I chase you down with this camel" he stated sharply to get her butt moving and kept his face straight when she pouted. Did she think he'd fall for that? Normally, he would during her eerie monthly bloodletting just to keep the raging dragon within her pacified but not now. When he was ready to leave, everyone had best follow or he'd be leaving them behind to pick up the pace.

"You are just dreadful, it's a miracle anybody wants you as a life partner" she declared huffily as she stood up to wipe her clothes free of dirt, simultaneously cursing herself for being one of them. How could she have allowed herself to do so? It was almost enough to make her loathe herself for falling into the #1 rule you never committed in interdimensional travel. Actually, would the grandfather paradox still work in this kind of scenario? There were so many rules to follow and boundaries to never cross but Altaïr kept pushing her to break all of them.

She began walking in Malik's direction to follow the man on foot and ranted aloud to nobody in particular, "No wonder everybody loves Ezio. Sure, he's probably had his battles with some kind of STD by old age but he's charismatic and kind. Why couldn't they send me to him and Leonardo? Their gang of assassins rocked, I could've showed Bart my Bianca 2 in the form of a walking stick and asked Antonio to teach me advanced thievery-"

Malik burst into laughter as her words loudened as she let her inner frustrated Vivian peek through and she blurted madly, "Heck, I'll take _Shaun_ at this point and that's saying something! I-"

A small pebble to the back of the head knocked her out in midword and Malik turned to Altaïr, who simply put away his newly made slingshot. Vivian had helped him design it for fun before their arrival in Lake Victoria and now, she'd become its first victim. Irony could be rather humorous and he fought the idea to smirk as the single strike knocked her unconscious. Altaïr shrugged to Malik's flabbergasted look since she could've been injured and the assassin merely stated, "What? I haven't done that in a very long while."

Altaïr's camel trotted toward the crumpled form of Vivian, who now held dusty gray clothes on both the front and back. Sometimes they could tease each other in good fun but at other times, like this, it tempted to break them into a serious squabble. He didn't understand whether there was a problem during their communication or something else that lurked deeper. Was it really his form of speaking or was their behavior diverging from what they were before arrival? Looking to Malik, he asked for input from his friend as he asked with the honest truth, "Do you think there's a part of her that truly despises me? I know I'm not the friendliest of men and I try not to be but sometimes . . . call it a feeling."

Malik had been privy to the inner workings of Vivian's mind as they spent time together investigating settlements while Altaïr went solo over the rooftops. Since she couldn't tell Altaïr all she knew, she allowed Malik to know more about what would be as she tried to have second hand in cahoots towards keeping Altaïr alive and kicking. At the same time, it gave him insight into her feelings as she answered his questions truthfully but he wouldn't betray her confidence to Altaïr. What kind of friend would he be if he did? Vivian held an obvious affection for his friend but she wouldn't let it reach the surface and Malik wouldn't meddle with it since Altaïr . . . actually, he had no idea what the hell Altaïr was doing with his estranged relationship with Maria. The man barely spoke of any romances in his life but he'd briefly admitted that there was nothing permanent there. Unfortunately, that was before his friend learned he was going to be a father (which Malik was sure he was by now) so just about anything could happen.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't and that's all I will say" Malik answered honestly to prevent Altaïr from popping anymore questions and the man frowned to the answer. Altaïr hated to admit he was jealous of the bond between the two since they never squabbled and wanted what they had. Why was it so easy for his friend to be charismatic while he ruined most of his own attempts? Malik decided to do Vivian a favor as they headed on to Tanzania and told his friend simply, "I will carry her on my camel since she will feel more comfortable with me and prevent quarrels."

"You just said she wasn't mad at me!" Altaïr pointed out swiftly as he felt jumbled around like a teenager all over again, wanting something that another had because it suddenly became popular. What did Malik have that he didn't? Fine, he had patience, charisma, kindness, ridiculously good looks . . . he was fighting a losing battle here, wasn't he? He didn't want Vivian in the physical sense (he'd drown himself before admitting it) but losing the comfort level he'd earned with her after entering the area told him there was something wrong there.

"Focus on the trip, Altaïr" he ordered to snap his friend's mind back to their mission because Vivian would be mortified if he found the reason why. Altaïr had a tendency to pick at something until it bit him in the hand and somehow, Malik was certain everything would come to light in due time.

* * *

**A/N**: And we're done!. . .with Lake Victoria. Vivian and Altaïr will be working past their problem in the next chapter and it's actually the last bump in their road of trust they'll have. As much as he nags like the grumpy eagle he is, he will come to love Vivian more than he would've thought possible. Their journey to Mozambique will be faster than the long road to Lake Victoria but they will be spending almost three months in Quelimane. This is where we'll see their romance flourish with Altaïr acknowledging his emotions and it will lead to a road of questions about the future.

Here is **my most important question to you as readers** as I approach their romance: _Would you like to read a lemon between them? _I ask only because it will be a moment that will leave the two questioning their future afterwards and leaving Vivian with an, ahem, permanent gift (wink, wink).

And onwards to my reply to my darling readers:

_David meyer ny_: I'm glad everyone loves her catchy songs and I hope this little one sufficed.

_Hollownature_: Altaïr will be ignorant of them until they smack him in the face in the form an interested suitor in Quelimane. He'll be playing his subtle cards at first, which won't go perfectly with his lack of patience when people get in his way, until he has to kiss her to show his intentions. Vivian herself will be the toughest obstacle to her heart due to the time lapse between them but Altaïr has never been the type to give up.

_KrnYong_: She is incredibly hurt by his words and he'll see how much when she finally breaks emotionally in private with him to purge everything she's worried for and afraid of. Despite her humorous and cheeky character, there is a strength that has been growing within her because being trapped in an archaic era would bring such a psychological trauma that I can't bear to imagine. That inner strength will help in the coming months because Vivian will indeed face the worst hardships when she's in the temple in Madagascar and the events that unfold afterwards. Altaïr is quite the intense persona so I've never imagined him processing emotions like Vivian and in a way, she's humanized him further. Don't worry though, by the time they're at Madagascar, he will be verbalizing his feelings.

_Lissa_: Thank you for providing new readers for me and I hope they love it as much you do. Readers are easily pulled in with the trio since it's not a lot of characters but by the end of the story, we'll have a few more.

_IsraAl'Attia-Theron_: Lol, Vivian always has a little shenanigan in mind wherever she goes. Don't worry, many readers want to hug our unfortunate time traveler and hit Altaïr with a frying pan. Vivian will usually sing every other chapter or so depending on the situation but because so many readers love it, I might try one small tune per chapter. Thank you for being a new reader and reviewer, I always love reading feedback.

_Cecilia Green_: Thank you for loving the story and for the lovely reviews, you made my day. Your shipping of Altaïr and Vivian is totally normal since many readers are on that little wagon. :) The two will have a romance, I can guarantee that because the natural progression of it has made it credible with Altaïr's personality. There will be a sequel and more than a year ago, I did think about adding Ezio or a cameo of Desmond but Vivian's existence with Altaïr is fragile enough that time can't bend so dramatically (like so many Mary Sues who abuse it).

_feet269_: I applaud you for reaching the current end of this long story and don't worry, there are _many_ more chapters to come. Thank you for the kind words about my writing and I do love humor- it makes you live longer. Altaïr lives in quite the conservative era so any skin above the wrists and ankles would leave him speechless. As for the role- or should I say, time- reversal, it will not be out of the story's scope.

As for my anonymous guest reviewers, thank you for your support and loving the characters because they do indeed grow on you. Truly, I never thought I'd see _300+_ reviews for this story so thank you from the bottom of my heart! Oh, and for _100+_ views on my story cover in Photobucket!

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**Next Time**: _Heal My Heart_

The next time he tried to become friendly, they'd been walking on foot to give their camel a rest and shared mild jokes with each other to pass the time. Her hand had then pushed him by the shoulder in a light jest since she could barely make a dent in the man and Altaïr had returned it with one of his own, his weakest one actually. She brought another round and eventually, his ego became competitive and he pushed her clear across the path and into a thorny bush. That was enough to tell him he'd made a grievous error and wouldn't win in drawing his answers. With that in mind, he'd hopped onto the camel for a hasty getaway while Vivian chucked rocks at his head. Well, he still counted it as something due to their joking.

He noticed her affinity for stargazing whenever they made camp and could usually find her at an empty spot at camp where she could sit by herself for an hour or so. Malik warned him to leave her alone during that time since she pondered away her stresses to cope with her continuing presence in their time. Altaïr, however, disregarded his words and simply plopped himself down next to her during one of those occasions. After trusting her, he'd expected she'd purge every thought while she was there in her most comfortable of places.

"You watch the stars often" he remarked casually to show he meant no harm as he sat down on the grass, stirring her out of her thoughts. She had invited him a few times but he'd declined in order to sharpen his weapons so seeing him was surprising. Over the weeks, she'd caught him trying to wedge back into her private life but she wouldn't dare delve into it. It was best to keep him at bay as a mere companion and curled her legs under her chin as he asked with curiosity, "Are you searching for that alien life in the heavens?"

"No, just. . ." she answered with a faint smile but faltered on delving further about her thoughts. He was focused on his goals so she would only concern herself with returning home because that was why she'd gone with him. It had been so easy to forget why she'd tagged along and felt ashamed for forgetting it. For a moment, he caught a glimmer of sadness but it was gone as quickly as it came when she answered simply, "Ruminating."

"Would you like to share?" he suggested helpfully to see if it would draw her out of that shell. For the first time, he attempted to smooth his features into a sympathetic face but found resistance in his facial muscles after years of scowling power. To Vivian, it was the oddest expression she'd seen on his part because Altaïr wasn't meant to be soft at all. It was like seeing a lion attempt to be vegetarian- it was impossible! She did, however, believe the tone of his voice when he stated earnestly, "I believe it helps to bond companions even further and the silent night always draws your deepest worries."

"You don't share your thoughts with me anymore, simply infer or relate strategy" she stated softly since he'd stopped being laidback and open since arriving back in Kenya, only his need for the item. There had been an invisible wall enacted when they'd arrived and it had shut her out as their inside jokes had shifted into finding the item only. It was a reason why they clashed so much as their connection severed and she thought it would be best to keep it that way for her sake. They'd only spoken about their missions, travels, and current hobbies- never anything past that since leaving Kenya. She stood up from the ground to abandon her meditations and reminded quietly as she left for her tent, "It's why we have private journals."

She was harder to crack than a rock.

He cast aside the subtle attempt at bonding and went for a promise he'd guaranteed at Lake Victoria. Vivian slowly kept edging herself away from him and he noticed that their old comfortable chats had become rare. She didn't even try to touch is arm anymore but he wouldn't say it aloud out of fear she'd think he held feelings for her- which he did _not_. It was just . . . well, wasn't he supposed to be the most astonishing man in her life? What happened to the fawning and nonsensical ramblings?

"You know, I did promise you could draw me and you've yet to do so" he brought forth in suggestion on a cool breezy morning while she mended a torn skirt. For the first time in his life, he tried to appear alluring as he puffed his chest and offered the ever rare charming smile that would swoon a million women into comas. He repeatedly told himself that it wasn't to attract her but to lure her back into his life again. That stubborn badger had holed herself up for too long in her burrow and the eagle was demanding she come out and play. Otherwise, who would? Malik would sooner smack him over the head for being childish. He squared his shoulders to show his perfect posture and managed a dazzling smile to state, "I'm currently free of any engagement."

Malik had no idea _what_ was going on but believed his friend had become touched in the head when he smiled at the woman. When had he smiled freely at anyone? When had he allowed anyone to draw him? What in the world was occurring before him? For a moment, he believed he'd stepped into a paradox of time as he watched his two companions. However, Vivian shook her head to kill the fantasies of hundreds of AC fangirls and declined politely, "Not right now, I'm busy for today."

"The invitation is open for _any_ day" he pushed with insistence as she failed to bite the bait and wanted to know what had shifted. Back at the inn, she'd been eager to draw him in ridiculous poses but she cast it aside now! Goodness, he'd touched her hand and she'd inadvertently touched him in a rather private area by accident. Didn't that mean anything? Where was the gleeful joy on her part to be beside him? She never resisted his offers for anything until leaving Lake Victoria and cursed the place to the heavens. Had he done something wrong and forgotten to apologize? No, he remembered all of the fights and they'd left at a mutual compromise. He wanted his friend back and for the first time, would jump through more hoops than he had with Malik.

"To be quite honest, I'm not sure when I'll be drawing again" she replied with a friendly smile but it was almost enough to make him rip his hood off. Where had his badger gone and who was this somber disinterested creature? He'd given her authorization to draw him however she wished and she'd _declined_? Where had all the fanatical love gone? He was almost inclined to pout and cross his arms for being ignored.


	38. Heal My Heart

**Music Inspiration: **Jesper Kyd- _"Ezio's Family"  
_

* * *

**Heal My Heart  
**

* * *

Altaïr didn't let the matter drop at all and since the first night they made camp in Kisumu, Kenya, he had created a side mission to revive Vivian's level of ease around him. He wasn't an idiot; he noticed how she avoided personal topics about herself now and stuck to their objective or the future itself. How did he know this wasn't all a figment of his imagination, you ask? When he saw Malik and Vivian discussing their favorite African animal- among other similar likes without him. It wasn't an obvious sign he was left out but when they switched the conversation back to their mission rather than ask what his was (how did that question not fit him after fighting so many?), he realized the woman was closer to Malik than to him. Wasn't she supposed to be helping _him_ and not his friend? What happened to her constant wanderings at his side? Her endless rambles about their adventure? The extra dash of cooking herbs she put into his food every evening? Why had she begun to slowly leave him without a reason?

It unsettled him.

Unfortunately, his attempts at meaningful conversation were like oil in water with Vivian. She resisted the notion of delving deeper into who he was or vice versa since leaving Lake Victoria. Wasn't that her point of being there with them? To study him and pretty much advise him? Seeing her share all of that with Malik, who excluded mentioning Altaïr in conversation, irritated him because Malik was supposed to be _his_ best friend. Throughout their travel, he prayed they wouldn't pop out to tell him that they were going to marry and explore on their own without him. He hated the petty emotions it stirred within him, they were like a disease with their manipulating puppeteer strings . . . but he didn't want her spreading her wings to fly off. She'd been by _his_ side, helping him, so why should another get that honor?

During a stop in Tanzania, he'd tried to stir up random conversation as he sat down next to her in the dirt and asked, "So, what kind of weather do you prefer?"

The boggled expression on her face matched what his mind questioned for asking such a simplistic but ridiculous question. The weather? Was that the best he could do? Why didn't he just ask if she'd digested her food already? He cursed his lack of charisma but he didn't have much to work with. Her lips parted as she moved to speak but instead of answer, she informed worriedly, "You're sitting on an ant hill."

Altaïr nodded stiffly as he discovered _why_ the earth felt shifty ever since he'd sat on it and replied with deathly calm, "Ah, I see. Excuse me while I find a bush and hope they're not fire ants."

They were.

Another day led Altaïr to follow Vivian as she picked twigs for their morning campfire and the encounter led to an aerial battle with a red colobus monkey group that had been eating fruit in the trees. Apparently, they weren't keen of his flashy white robes and he escaped with pink blotches of splattered fruit on his robes. He spent the entire morning washing his robes in the river and letting them dry under the sun while Malik fished with Vivian. Again, he was thwarted and called it a temporary setback.

Another instance brought him closer when they'd been speaking about the change in geography as they approached the Tanzanian coast of Dar es Salaam. The horizon with the sparkling blue ocean was a welcome change from the desert land and jungles they'd experienced venturing down the Nile. The rain had shifted to short periods during the day rather than downpours and although the humidity increased, it was bearable with the sea breeze. Vivian was chattiest with him when it concerned everyday things like the weather or geography and he'd been ready to reel her in like a helpless fish with a question about her own home. Luck, however, was against him again as they walked when Vivian's eyes widened and she said, "You stepped in dung."

He couldn't get the smell out for hours and cursed what vile creature dropped it there.

The next time he tried to become friendly, they'd been walking on foot to give their camel a rest and shared mild jokes with each other to pass the time. Her hand had then pushed him by the shoulder in a light jest since she could barely make a dent in the man and Altaïr had returned it with one of his own, his weakest one actually. She brought another round and eventually, his ego became competitive and he pushed her clear across the path and into a thorny bush. That was enough to tell him he'd made a grievous error and wouldn't win in drawing his answers. With that in mind, he'd hopped onto the camel for a hasty getaway while Vivian chucked rocks at his head. Well, he still counted it as something due to their joking.

He noticed her affinity for stargazing whenever they made camp and could usually find her at an empty spot at camp where she could sit by herself for an hour or so. Malik warned him to leave her alone during that time since she pondered away her stresses to cope with her continuing presence in their time. Altaïr, however, disregarded his words and simply plopped himself down next to her during one of those occasions. After trusting her, he'd expected she'd purge every thought while she was there in her most comfortable of places.

"You watch the stars often" he remarked casually to show he meant no harm as he sat down on the grass, stirring her out of her thoughts. She had invited him a few times but he'd declined in order to sharpen his weapons so seeing him was surprising. Over the weeks, she'd caught him trying to wedge back into her private life but she wouldn't dare delve into it. It was best to keep him at bay as a mere companion and curled her legs under her chin as he asked with curiosity, "Are you searching for that alien life in the heavens?"

"No, just. . ." she answered with a faint smile but faltered on delving further about her thoughts. He was focused on his goals so she would only concern herself with returning home because that was why she'd gone with him. It had been so easy to forget why she'd tagged along and felt ashamed for forgetting it. For a moment, he caught a glimmer of sadness but it was gone as quickly as it came when she answered simply, "Ruminating."

"Would you like to share?" he suggested helpfully to see if it would draw her out of that shell. For the first time, he attempted to smooth his features into a sympathetic face but found resistance in his facial muscles after years of scowling power. To Vivian, it was the oddest expression she'd seen on his part because Altaïr wasn't meant to be soft at all. It was like seeing a lion attempt to be vegetarian- it was impossible! She did, however, believe the tone of his voice when he stated earnestly, "I believe it helps to bond companions even further and the silent night always draws your deepest worries."

"You don't share your thoughts with me anymore, simply infer or relate strategy" she stated softly since he'd stopped being laidback and open since arriving back in Kenya, only his need for the item. There had been an invisible wall enacted when they'd arrived and it had shut her out as their inside jokes had shifted into finding the item only. It was a reason why they clashed so much as their connection became strained and she thought it would be best to keep it that way for her sake. They'd only spoken about their missions, travels, and current hobbies- never anything past that since leaving Lake Victoria. She stood up from the ground to abandon her meditations and reminded quietly as she left for her tent, "It's why we have private journals."

She was harder to crack than a rock.

He cast aside the subtle attempt at bonding and went for a promise he'd guaranteed at Lake Victoria. Vivian slowly kept edging herself away from him and he noticed that their old comfortable chats had become rare. She didn't even try to touch is arm anymore but he wouldn't say it aloud out of fear she'd think he held feelings for her- which he did _not_. It was just . . . well, wasn't he supposed to be the most astonishing man in her life? What happened to the fawning and nonsensical ramblings?

"You know, I did promise you could draw me and you've yet to do so" he brought forth in suggestion on a cool breezy morning while she mended a torn skirt. For the first time in his life, he tried to appear alluring as he puffed his chest and offered the ever rare charming smile that would swoon a million women into comas. He repeatedly told himself that it wasn't to attract her but to lure her back into his life again. That stubborn badger had holed herself up for too long in her burrow and the eagle was demanding she come out and play. Otherwise, who would? Malik would sooner smack him over the head for being childish. He squared his shoulders to show his perfect posture and managed a dazzling smile to state, "I'm currently free of any engagement."

Malik had no idea _what_ was going on but believed his friend had become touched in the head when he smiled at the woman. When had he smiled freely at anyone? For that matter, when had he shown his teeth at people without a snarl attached to it? When had he allowed anyone to draw him? What in the world was occurring before him? For a moment, he believed he'd stepped into a paradox of time as he watched his two companions. However, Vivian shook her head to kill the fantasies of hundreds of AC fangirls and declined politely, "Not right now, I'm busy for today."

"The invitation is open for _any_ day" he pushed with insistence as she failed to bite the bait and wanted to know what had shifted. Back at the inn, she'd been eager to draw him in ridiculous poses but she cast it aside now! Goodness, he'd touched her hand and she'd inadvertently touched him in a rather private area by accident. Didn't that mean anything? Where was the gleeful joy on her part to be beside him? She never resisted his offers for anything until leaving Lake Victoria and cursed the place to the heavens. Had he done something wrong and forgotten to apologize? No, he remembered all of the fights and they'd left at a mutual compromise. He wanted his friend back and for the first time, would jump through more hoops than he had with Malik.

"To be quite honest, I'm not sure when I'll be drawing again" she replied with a friendly smile but it was almost enough to make him rip his hood off. Where had his badger gone and who was this somber disinterested creature in her place? He'd given her authorization to draw him however she wished and she'd _declined_? Where had all the fanatical love gone? He was almost inclined to pout and cross his arms for being ignored.

"I really am sorry about what I said about your art-" he began if that was the problem altogether. That encounter had left him rattled due to the inexperience of processing his emotions and for projecting his insecurities towards her. If she held any ill will, he wanted to atone for it now but Vivian shook her head.

"I know, but I'm more focused on . . . well, going home" she answered earnestly since she belonged to a different time and had to wake from the dream she was living. This was not her life and after what he'd told her, she had no place in it. Quite frankly, the past weeks had been incredibly miserable for her as she'd begun to detach herself from the group. She had come to long for her family every day as she cut her time with Altaïr to nonexistence unless it involved the mission. She had forgotten where she was from and it was time to remember where her future lay because it certainly wasn't alongside the assassin. It would be easier to forget him if she kept replaying all of the hostile scenarios between them to identify him to those awful moments. Looking away from him, she focused on the area she was sewing with even more concentration and murmured softly, "I don't want any delays to Madagascar."

As for Altaïr, the fact that she would leave had begun to cause a hairline fracture in his emotional armor. Lake Victoria had greatly shifted the dynamics between them and she wasn't reaching out to him as she had months ago. It was a foolish inclination that she could ever want to stay a little longer beside them but it hurt to be kept outside of her thoughts again. He had taken their witty interactions and physical mishaps for granted since he expected her to always be there . . . but she couldn't. She wasn't there for _him_ anymore and he couldn't bring himself to admit his own jumbled feelings. He could only relent his suggestions to prevent appearing desperate (he had plenty of friends, right?) and stated quietly, "I see."

No matter, he would achieve his goal by the end of it all.

* * *

They had been crossing a thin road alongside a mountain when he encountered just how drastic their relationship had become. Heights were never an issue for assassins but the camels were taking their sweet time in crossing and Vivian eyed the trail uncertainly. Every few minutes or so, she could hear debris rolling down the mountain and she wasn't comfortable with nothing to grip if the ground gave way.

Malik led their group since the camels heeded his orders well while Altaïr kept an eye on their rear in case anything happened. Vivian kept the center behind the camels to usher them forward to follow Malik. She'd been leading them on with waving hands when she happened to step on a rock that angled her foot, bringing an instant sting to her ankle. As she tried to compensate her aching tendon by moving it behind the rock, she failed to test the sturdiness of the earth before moving.

The edge of that area was already littered with cracks and Altaïr spotted the shifting earth but not before it gave way. The ground under her right foot disappeared instantly and Vivian couldn't regain her balance after shifting her entire weight onto that foot. With an alarmed shriek, she slid down the edge towards the abyss below before she could even react.

_**"Vivian!"**_

He didn't even think and instinctively reacted by reaching to grasp whatever he could to prevent her falling down below. By a stroke of luck, his perception and agility managed to snag her right sleeve as her hands struggled to find something to grab a hold off. With her weight being thrown backward rather than forward, it would've been an instant death without his intervention. Her hands managed to find a tight hold on the broken edge but the gritty dirt made it hard to stay atop. She called to him in a frightened voice as he used his free hand to grab the cowl of her robes and he ordered, "Hold onto the ledge while I grab you. Keep your eyes on me!"

Her body was shaking enough from fear because there was nothing but the assassin keeping her from an untimely death. He repeated his order to keep her calm under stress and heard Malik calling his name since her screams frightened him. Unfortunately, he was trapped in front of the camels and releasing them would also place their only mode of transportation in peril. Altaïr released her sleeve to slide his left arm under that one and gripped the back of her robes. Quickly, he ordered her to sling an arm behind his neck and used his other arm to slide it under her other arm. He kept a tight hold on her to ensure she wouldn't fall through and dug his feet into the dirt as he kneeled to tug her upwards. He wasn't going to lose her on an insignificant trail after enduring such a long journey and grunted, "Don't let go of me!"

"Trust me, that's not my intention!" she managed to utter as she held onto him like a lifejacket and tried to find a decent footing. Every time the tip of her shoes touched the mountain, the earth crumbled and she was left with walking over gritty dirt.

Altaïr's strength was a heavy advantage as he managed to pull her weight and drew her to him when her lower limbs peeked over the edge. She scrambled to him when she felt solid dirt under her knees and breathed heavily at the thought of falling over again. It was a daunting experience and the closest call to death that she'd had upon arrival. She whimpered with fear for a few seconds as adrenaline kept pumping through her body but he reassured softly with relief, "It's all right. You're safe now."

He held her close to soothe her nerves since such an event would leave one incredibly terrified afterwards. Frankly, it left him vulnerable as well as the thought of losing her brought out emotions of loss he'd never experienced with others. She'd become his partner in crime and had weaved herself slowly into his heart so no, he wouldn't be releasing her. If anything, he'd be inclined to fall down to his death with her in a last attempt to shield her from the fall. One hand weaved into her hair so he could envelop her tightly to show that rare display of care but she recoiled instantly.

As if he'd set her aflame, she backed away out of his grip since she'd simply been holding onto his arm. The fright and shock from the fall had dulled her and in that brief moment, she allowed herself to be held in the most familiar way all humans experienced during traumatic times. When he tried to delve further with caring moves she'd encountered before Lake Victoria, she severed the line connecting that old mindset to protect herself. As much as her legs ached where the rocks had undoubtedly scraped her skin, she wouldn't accept the help. She wasn't walking down this road again and scrambled to stand up on shaky feet to stutter, "I-I'm fine."

"Vivian-" he tried to dissuade since he could see her visibly shaking and only wanted to comfort her. Why was she rejecting him?

"Malik, let's keep going" she called over to get their line moving since being stuck with Altaïr would only lead to more questions. Also, the sooner they found stable flat land to walk upon, the faster she could tend to any open scrapes to avoid an infection. Malik couldn't see what was happening behind him due to the thin trail but assumed everything was fine now and continued. Vivian wanted to leave the thin trail around the mountain before acrophobia settled into her mind and never hike around an area like that again. Not wanting to appear ungrateful to her companion, she offered her thanks, "Thank you for helping me, Altaïr, but I'm fine now."

"But-" he was ready to state otherwise but she continued walking down the trail to follow Malik and their camels.

He didn't like this Vivian.

* * *

He managed to pin her after visiting a trading post with the caravans on the Saharan routes. Malik had gone off to gather firewood to give him a chance (it wasn't easy budging him) and Altaïr would pounce like a stealthy cheetah on the unsuspecting badger. He had tracked her movements through camp while he feigned reading his travel journal until it was time. Only when she was too busy to notice him or feigning ignorance, did he strike.

After knocking over a clean basket of laundry, of course.

"Oh! I just cleaned those" she sighed exasperatedly and leaned down to pick them up to prevent dirtying clothes again. Altaïr was finicky with his shade of white so if any of his clothes became dirty, she'd send him to the river to wash them himself. He helped her clean off the articles of clothing and she aired them to free any lingering dirt before folding them neatly. When he attempted to fold an item himself and turned it into a misshapen ball, he relinquished it to her care and she smiled, "Thanks."

"I was hoping we could talk" he proposed casually to keep her in the dark about his intention and she nodded quietly, folding one of her long skirts. He paused for a moment since he'd worked on his strategy to keep her in one spot but failed to conjure the topics he'd lead from. This is why he stuck with assassinating rather than socializing, it was easier to plan a kill than hosting a party. Because of that, he came off sounding like a concerned parent, "I wanted to talk about your behavior-"

"If I've done something to insult you, I didn't mean to" she interjected quickly with regret because she respected him and didn't want to appear uncivilized. Altaïr tended to be a little pickier with respect and etiquette than Malik which usually led the dai to rant that Altaïr didn't show the same when cornered about a mistake. Vivian, however, merely wanted to keep their association without any quarrels and apologized, "Despite the my time here, I still forget I'm within a society with different customs and-"

"No, you've done nothing of the sort- actually, you might have better manners than me" he stated frankly to halt her apologies and watched her shoulders drop in relief. She blinked with surprise because he rarely admitted his own shortcomings unless you pressed him. He cleared his throat as he approached the subject and spoke carefully, "You and Malik share a tight bond-"

"Oh dear, you don't think we're courting, do you? I assure you, he's _only_ a friend" she sighed with embarrassment because divulging secrets in the present with the opposite gender was normal while in the twelfth century, you were preaching to your future spouse. Vivian did not find Malik attractive in that manner (although the man was physically more appealing) and there had been many times she kicked herself for not eyeing him instead. Nobody really knew what Malik's future held in store and she'd fallen for the most stubborn non-available man possible! Altaïr groaned miserably at using words with double meanings because he didn't care and she blinked with confusion, "What is it?"

"You two trust each other but lately, our own has deteriorated" he approached the subject gently since he no longer shared his knowledge nor she her humorous anecdotes. She and Malik would share a conversation that could include him but once Malik was out of the picture, she made idle conversation that lacked their previous exchange of laughs. Where had his feisty badger gone? He didn't know how much he missed their old banter until it was gone and despite his original nagging, he wanted it back immediately.

He had never been expressive with his feelings but it was the only way to convey his worry. It was time to find the truth to his questions and he admitted wholeheartedly, "I no longer feel that connection that we shared before leaving Lake Victoria. We talked for hours before that and upon arriving there, we cut everything down to mere minutes. I know my demeanor changed due to the severity of the mission and there were many fights between us . . . is that what made the wedge?"

Vivian wanted to hide away from the truth but his piercing stare told her she needed to answer him and spoke quietly, "I think we learned all we needed to from each other and hit a dead-end. When we're isolated from society, it can create a halo effect and we seek that human companionship but once we return . . . it ends and ours did-"

"I don't believe that, we were worse when we first started out and I feel that same coldness seeping back in" he interjected frankly because their camp was quieter than before and when he sought her, she was busy or elsewhere around the area. Before Lake Victoria, they had been friendly to the point that he'd carried her over a hill and that was saying something because he'd drop any other person. He wasn't going leave the matter alone because he wanted her back in his life and stated matter-of-factly, "You've become distant in my personal opinion and you came to me for _anything_- even when you found that weird stick."

She smiled faintly since it had been rather oddly shaped and could see that he wasn't going to be satisfied until he found a real answer. The man was a stickler for the truth but he was tightlipped himself. She licked her lips nervously as she decided how to approach this passively, "I became more open with you than I should've been, given my circumstance of arrival. I fell prematurely to a notion that we were equals of sorts in this adventure and that I'd found a friend in you."

She really thought she had made the assassin her pal but jumped ahead of herself with that one because the man was Altaïr. He didn't just get chummy chummy with just anyone and maybe her own perky personality played into that since she wasn't Malik or Maria. There was no way she could stack up to them in strength, stamina, or intelligence. How could she ever hope to when the only thing she'd ever killed was a fat bug? She cleared her tightening throat as his gaze made her feel the size of an ant and she stammered, "I . . . I was wrong to assume that and it's why I was so pushy back on the lake. You were right, it wasn't my place to intrude on your mission since it has nothing to do with me and I'll be keeping my thoughts to myself from now on. I just . . . I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable but it's better that I just keep my mouth shut before I make things worse. I don't want to make you resent me for being here so it's best I stay out of your way."

She picked up her basket to continue on her way but he grasped her wrist to prevent a hasty escape. He didn't like the way she furrowed her brow with worry rather than her trademark annoyance and took the basket to place it back down on the ground. She wrenched her hand free and he felt rejected since she'd reacted like he was poison. Was touching out of the question as well? For the first time, he found himself wanting to share in that socializing aspect.

"Why wouldn't you think we're friends?" he asked inquisitively since his behavior clearly showed they were but maybe he had perceived things differently. What had he done or said to make her behave like that? He trusted her well enough to rank alongside Malik and would never want her to feel worthless. He didn't understand why she believed there was no camaraderie between them and stated truthfully, "We been traveling for months to uncharted lands, that in itself brings a trust and comfort level that I wouldn't grant others. I've been sleeping in a tent next to you since meeting and I've never worried about you posing a danger or being an annoyance to me. What makes you think there is no friendship on my part?"

She hesitated for a moment since opening that can of worms wouldn't bode well and murmured quietly, "The way you spoke to me at Lake Victoria . . . it revealed something to me that I've been trying very hard to hide from myself since arriving here."

Altaïr accessed those old memories from the trip since they'd done quite a _lot_ of yelling, breaking free of their old truce to bite into each other. Her concern had been for him but his was for the order, their personalities clashing as each sought to protect something different. Had he disrespected or painfully enlightened her in some way? If so, he never meant to hurt her. He'd told her not to listen to him when he became irritated! Vivian crossed her arms in her classic defense position as she bit her lips with her teeth from behind, thinning them for a moment before admitting weakly, "I allowed myself to fall into this false pretense that I'm one of you when in reality, I'm not. You were right, I'm not from your order and I don't want to delve into that lifestyle but . . . I liked the camaraderie of it. I didn't feel so alone out here in the wilderness and it gave me a temporary family of sorts to dull the pain. It made me forget that I'm not from this time, that I'm merely a tool to help you further your goal-"

"Vivian-"

"I overstepped my bounds in your life and I apologize for being out of place" she broke in tearfully because she'd tried to build an illusionary life where she could fit in amongst them but she wasn't one of them. It hurt more than his original antagonism at the start because at least then, he'd made it clear that there was a boundary and she was to remain outside like a flea ridden dog. She wiped her left eye before tears fell to leave her a blubbering mess and murmured, "You gave my life here a small meaning but I allowed myself to delve deeper than I should have. I've always been rather ahead of myself but it was never meant to intrude into your life and it won't be permanent. I am not one of you, I am not your friend, merely a comrade that guides you to the pieces of Eden and I will not say any more on your decisions. That is my sole purpose and I will not break free of that . . . I just hope to reach Madagascar and go home, where I do belong. In the end, I have to realize that there is nothing for me here-"

"You're not a tool, I was speaking from frustration over losing the piece" he objected to her misconception, regretting his choice of words at that moment. Is that why she'd been skirting around him since then, avoiding him as much as she could? He would never think of her as a tool and cherished her more as a smart-alecky friend. He'd never seen her shed actual tears since meeting (not even then either) and it unnerved him completely to watch her wipe away the crystalline tears. Where had the indomitable badger gone? It didn't fit her upbeat personality, even the sarcastic part, and he wanted his memory wiped clean of it. He didn't like to see her hurt in any way, especially if he was the cause.

He didn't know what to do because dealing with a crying woman was a rarity for him. The only time it had occurred was with a woman pleading that she was living on the streets and he'd thrown coins at her, along with a half-eaten piece of bread in his hand, before escaping to the rooftops. Crying unnerved him as it struck a part of him that Al Mualim had condemned because emotions had no place in their professions. He couldn't process them easily like Vivian and it was a main reason why many saw him as standoffish. Yet, watching the short historian cry her eyes out shamed him and he tried to comfort her as best he could, "Dry your tears, Vivian."

"I don't like them anymore than you do" she mumbled sadly to her outpour of emotion and didn't approve of it either. She was a private person with her inner emotions, especially when regarding Altaïr, and hated to be seen at such a low point. Losing her mother at a young period in her life had hardened her to bear the unexpected emotional thrashings but Altaïr brought a different type of heartache. It was times like this that she wished to have her mother so she could ask advice about life but again, she was alone. All she could do was handle everything in a graceful manner, even while wiping her eyes clear, and sighed with melancholy, "But you were speaking the truth, even if it was through anger. What could I possibly do in this world that would ever amount to something? I'm not meant for this time-"

"Then why would you be here if you weren't?" he questioned because her life certainly had meaning alongside him. There was a reason as to why he'd found her and didn't count it as mere coincidence anymore. It was why they were traveling together so she could gather those critical answers and he wouldn't forget the help she'd provided him. The words were out of his mouth faster than he could bite his tongue, "It wasn't a random act that brought you here and you mean more to me than I ever thought possible. You have a home here-"

"My home is with my family and I don't want your pity" she pointed out because a sudden change of heart for her benefit wouldn't help at all. The assassins were an organization she had no problem aiding but she wasn't eager on joining due to her moral standing (and fear) of taking a life with her own hands. She merely wanted a friendship with the man who protected her and breathed deeply to clear her stuffy nose to state frankly, "I'd rather face the harsh truth than cower behind rose colored glass because you've never once called me your friend throughout our travels. I know Malik is my friend but you . . . I'm tired trying to mold myself to get your respect. I'm just _so_ tired of it all- the weather, the bites, the danger, even the endless walking."

"Vivian, if you haven't realized by now that we are friends, you should" he stated calmly but his hands were fidgeting at what to do with the weeping woman. He'd never faced such a situation before and cursed Al Mualim for reigning in their emotions to prevent attachments of any sort. Vivian had already become one but he didn't see her as a liability after the aid she lent him. She made him a better man when she objected to his logic of keeping to an overall goal without looking back instead of helping a few people along the way. As grand master, he wanted to be a wise and just man rather than his predecessor and sighed softly with regret, "Forget what I said. You might not be an assassin but you're definitely a part of us by association and I trust you as I do Malik. Your quirks might raise a question to your sanity but my life wouldn't be the same without you."

She nodded quietly to accept his words and found herself smiling faintly when he patted her shoulder awkwardly, "There, there. Halt your crying."

"You're _awful_ at comforting crying women" she joked gently with a soft chuckle as she dried her wet cheeks and he agreed with a grumble. He'd never had the option of doing so and he moved his hand to pat the top of her head as he'd seen parents do to their children. Vivian was the only one that had compelled him to offer comfort and he would do his best to stop her tears from flowing.

"I can't be the best at everything" he muttered dryly and she pulled him into an embrace by the waist. He was thrown aback from the surprising gesture because he'd only seen it between families and found it odd. They had only attempted a loose one-armed hug in Lake Victoria after Malik's kidnapping but it had stirred the safest feeling in the world to him. Now, here she was embracing him without falter as her cheek pressed against his chest (my, she was small). His hands awkwardly patted the center of her back as he peered at the top of her head to drawl slowly, "This is new."

"Have you never had a hug?" she asked gently with a wistful smile to his isolated life. Their time together had brought her insight to the radically different life he'd grown into in comparison to hers. While she'd had two loving parents to guide her way, he'd been orphaned under Al Mualim's care with the sole purpose of molding a future assassin. While she'd played in a park with her sister as a child, he'd been learning the brotherhood's tenets and defense skills to protect himself. He hadn't bonded with his father playing with toy cars, played tag with other children, nor even had a regular stroll with a pretty young girl. Vivian, however, craved human companionship to avoid the loss of her very diverse life in 2009 and admitted longingly, "I miss holding my baby sister- she even had nicknames for hugs. She called them 'Penny's Power Hugs'."

Altaïr scratched the back of his neck because he certainly hadn't and answered reluctantly, "I've seen families do this . . . oh, and Maria did this right before-"

She released him instantly at knowing that tidbit because she certainly could've lived without it. Knowing his romantic history was not part of her AC fan loyalty and it was a good repellant at keeping her emotions in check. Her palms faced him as she raised her hands to chest level and she grimaced, "_Please_ don't tell me about your sexual conquests, especially at this distance."

He grunted to her bold comment because she was the one that asked in the first place. For the first time, he wondered about her own history since she was a bold little woman. Had she courted men in her time? Were they like her? Or the opposite of him? Had she been physically intimate with any of them? The hood around his neck became warm to that thought and he pushed it away because there were most important things to focus on. Her emotional wellbeing came first and he caught a faint smile on her face. Was she amused by the fact he'd been open about that private area of his life? Either way, it was something that took away her tears and pointed to her mouth as he stated, "There! A smile is all you should wear, all women, actually. They should never weep for our mistakes and you will dry those eyes."

For a man living in the twelfth century, she appreciated the comment because he never minimized her as a woman. Well, the argument at Lake Victoria had been the only one but she saw that he regretted his actions. She smiled when he whispered one last apology and squeezed her shoulders to emphasize his regret. He looked so flustered she couldn't help but hug him one last time, wrapping her arms above the wide leather belt to squeeze him for all it was worth.

Her inner fangirl was sated and she thought about hugging the best assassin in her eyes, _Hmm, definitely not a teddy bear quality. It's like holding a sack of dough, tough but malleable. There's no flavor in him but you bet he'll be saucy if you rile him._

"I didn't think you'd ever trust me as a friend, I didn't exactly make the best of impressions" she commented softly and pressed her cheek against the center of his chest. He agreed with that because he had perceived her as a stark raving lunatic while she believed she'd fallen into a coma. His first inkling had been to leave her in the streets but he would've regretted listening to his instincts now that he stood beside her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and run his fingers through her hair as she made him feel the most important in her life. Her soft-spoken words only weaved themselves further into his heart when she thanked him, "I'm glad you didn't leave me in a dungeon with the rats and a cup of water."

"Why does everyone assume our dungeons are dank and pest ridden?" he feigned disappointment with a frown that brought her laughter to seeing his pouting face. Her hug brought him no discomfort since her strength was far weaker than his own and adjusted to this new form of human contact. He'd honestly expected to do this on his child first but it was best to practice with her before he horrified his son with his awful interpersonal skills. Having his son run away with tears was not the best way to feel welcomed as a father. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, grazing the top of one since her petite form allowed him to place his chin on top of her head like two coyotes out in a pasture.

Vivian enjoyed the hug a little more than she should have but their archaic garb made it cozily comfy. She could barely feel the contours of his muscles and doubted her own layers provided anything to be felt as well. It was the perfect win-win without embarrassment! She had tied herself emotionally to both assassins as they became her adopted family and knew that when it was time to leave, it would be similar to tearing a fresh surgical wound open.

"Don't ever cry again" he stated softly and gently stroked the back of her head, causing her to smile fondly. If she'd been born a puppy in his time, she would've followed him faithfully to the ends of the earth. Her green eyes opened to meet his gaze and he admitted that they were quite the mesmerizing shade. His throat turned dry for a brief moment as he peered down at her and he licked his lips to manage, "I'm serious, Vivian."

"Will you dance a little jig for me if I promise?" she preened cheekily to push the limits of his apology, adding a fond squeeze to his midsection.

"Don't push it" he smirked as he encased her shoulders, her form molding against his in a way that no others matched. Maria always kept an inch of space whenever he'd attempted the affectionate action, only using her arms for touching him as she kept reservations. Most hugs led to the horizontal tango and whenever he attempted to convey his affection, she'd stated that their entanglement was purely physical on her part. Vivian, however, met his body from head to toe as her head rested comfortably under his chin and her boots touched his by settling between them. She didn't shy away from his curiosity with physical contact as he tried to understand it after years of deeming it wrong. He had half a mind to keep her in that same position for hours while he sat in his tent and merely treasured the silence around them.

It was . . . rather pleasant . . . and relaxing.

"Ahem."

The sound of a purposely clearing throat reminded the two that they had a third person in camp they'd temporarily forgotten about. The two were caught like deer in headlights as their private embrace was walked in upon (or intruded in Altaïr's mind). Vivian merely waved in welcome to fight down the blush threatening to surface on her face while Altaïr tried to appear completely innocent. The dai decided to take it as a good sign that Altaïr's apology went well rather than witness Vivian pelting him with rocks.

Altaïr released Vivian immediately as he was caught enjoying that physical contact and reasoned awkwardly, "Um . . . I was apologizing."

Malik decided to ignore the strange antics of Altaïr because he needed to fix his kindling to make a fire. The less he knew the better (whenever Vivian was happy). Vivian smiled at the robed assassin as he broke his own personal comfort barrier for her and teased, "Customized apologies, nice. I don't think I've had enough of that apology, I need an extra dash of sorry and a spoonful of friendship."

There were many facts known about the legendary and bodacious Altaïr but never . . . _never_ did she imagine the man held the capacity to blush.

"Are . . . are you blushing?" she chided gently with an amused smile and he turned around immediately to ignore her question. Why was his indifferent mask slipping between his fingers? What hell was wrong with his face? It felt as if invisible flames had erupted to engulf his cheeks! What kind of assassin allowed a mere badger to fell him?

"Finish your laundry" he ordered hastily as he departed the area to take a brisk walk around the perimeter to make sure no animals followed Malik back. That, and to drive away the sudden blood rushing to his face. How could one little action of human contact warrant that result? And why was she bringing so many incidents of it?

That small moment would snowball into a maelstrom of emotions once they reached their next destination but this was just the first step of many.

* * *

Her broken relationship with Altaïr had slowly mended back to its original form from half a year before. She was thankful to know the true meaning of her friendship in his life and that he wouldn't take it (or her) for granted. As their friendship was reinforced, Altaïr took that time to increase her agility in basic fighting skills since her stamina bettered with each month on the road. Vivian was glad to build that confidence within herself to show she wasn't a lost cause but looking back to her old self, she saw the improvement. What sane human being could say they'd jumped out of a window, right?

When she managed to land a decent uppercut to his chin, she considered it a great achievement in her training. Her size only allowed her swats to his head that he was able to deflect with ease so she'd stuck to disabling kicks. Those handy kicks were enough to lower him to her level and she'd earned her first B in Altaïr's School of Hard Knocks (he didn't give A's). She'd been so happy in her success that she'd hugged him afterwards and inadvertently cut off his oxygen supply. Needless to say, Altaïr nursed a sore chin that night while Vivian beamed proudly for her victory. It didn't help matters any when Malik gave her tips on his weak points either.

Vivian held back a delighted smile when Altaïr plopped down beside her on the ground and leaned back against the log to ask, "Watching the stars again?"

"It passes the time and I'm still trying to find the images within each constellation" she replied with a disappointed pout as hundreds of stars littered the dark sky above them. The lack of light pollution and loud noises made the archaic era a beautiful one for stargazing. There were a few things the old era had that made her wish they existed in her own time but unfortunately, those times were long gone. Each time a star glittered, she looked to it to see its unique dance and smiled to admit, "I guess astronomy is my worst subject because I see absolutely nothing similar to their namesakes."

"We all have those, it makes us human- perfection is impossible" he reasoned with a light shrug of his shoulders since art was his bane. Well, socialization skills as well but he wasn't the chatty 'I'm going to tell you _everything_ that happened today' type.

"Says the man that can jump off a building and live" she chuckled softly since the man was flawless in strength and agility. Also, she was pretty sure he could bend in a dozen different ways and stopped that train of thought before she imagined anything scandalous. She'd already seen the man's torso bared and touched assassin goods on accident so there wasn't much barring her from a nice fantasy scene.

He smirked confidently to her compliment since he did have that going for him but pointed out, "But my socialization and temper is horrible. Remember Rigby? My shoddy personas? Empathy? I'm not the dashing heroic type that draws immediate attention."

"You're better without a fancy cape or a captivating smile- oh my Gandalf, that's _Ezio_! He's Renaissance Superman!" she agreed with bright eyes as a flashbulb went off in her head since he fit the mysterious stranger with the dazzling smile persona. Wow, the nighttime _was_ the best time to be mind blown! Altaïr fought the frown that threatened his lips because _he_ wanted to be the heroic man that drew her awe. Was it too much to ask to be admired? He jumped out of buildings on a daily basis too! Where was his 'oh my, Altaïr' for that? It sent her into another topic entirely as she declared triumphantly, "I've blown the Ezio charm factor mystery a new one!"

"No more Ezio" he sighed exasperatedly and hoped no more descendants would follow because he'd feel less of a man then. It was bad enough to compete with one younger generation but multiple? He just wanted _one_ single conversation in the day that didn't lead to the man that was better at him in a public game. Just because the man could glide like a bird didn't mean he couldn't. Well, he probably _could_ but not for very long without risking imminent death. If he heard that one descendant could tangle with wildlife with nothing but their hidden blade, he'd be writing a letter for Vivian's realm with every animal he'd personally wrestled with his bare hands. He fought a Nile crocodile for goodness sake! Where was his . . . blast it, what did Vivian call it? . . . oh, accomplishment trophy?

"Don't worry, I've always liked you extra special" she smiled impishly and tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger to emphasize it. Wait. Did she really? He smiled faintly as he felt that same warm sensation in his chest from Lake Victoria rising again. This time, he would not fight it to prevent upsetting Vivian and embraced it for the first time. She was extremely kind to him, more than he deserved, and would never dare hurting her. He was protective of his inner emotions but he wouldn't allow them to lash out again for self-preservation since Vivian could barely harm a fly. If the core values of Vivian could exist in the free civilization he was trying to preserve for mankind, he would die a happy man.

He decided to immerse himself in her humorous quips and managed a curious smile when he asked softly, "Really?"

Vivian chuckled softly since his low voice could charm the pants off anyone and could hear him jabber nonsense all day without having heard enough. Instead, he wasn't much of a talker but that in itself carried value as each word that was uttered meant something. Well, unless he cranky because then, he would nag until he was sated. He was a mystery box in her hands and she always ached to tinker like Pandora whenever she met his gaze. Looking to the clear night sky overhead, a mischievous smile touched her lips but her words carried only honesty, "You don't see me in his time, do you? I am grateful to whatever forces led me here that I met you because I wouldn't be the same. Somehow, I think I've been your anger management therapy."

True, they wouldn't be the same without each other and that made him wonder what would happen when they parted. He'd never admit it but the thought caused prickles of pain and tightness to seize his chest. Would he revert to his old ways throughout the years or remain humbled by her witty revelations? What would become of her? Hopefully, she'd return home and nowhere near any of his descendants to prevent being usurped. He tilted his head to the side with interest to her words and questioned playfully, "So why is it that my name has never been uttered during sleep?"

"Because there are awesomer characters out there that I can't meet like Gandalf, Garrus Vakarian, and Optimus Prime-" she replied cheekily as she counted off the names in her awesome character list and he groaned for bringing it forward. How many people was he competing with? Ahem, for popularity, of course. He should've been glad to have her eyes gloss over another unknown name but he wasn't. A year ago, he would've cheered for it and he cursed his feelings for it. His interactions with Vivian kept confusing him further and he snapped back to attention when she mumbled sheepishly, "It's, uh, a good long list. Besides, you condemned hearing your name, remember?"

His brow furrowed because he'd been rather vocal in the past about her and he mumbled, "Must you always use my words against me?"

"Since your words are law, why not wield them against you?" she grinned cheekily at outsmarting him with that loophole and he frowned to her cleverness. She withheld from laughing since he had quite the attractive 'I should be winning' pouting face and leaned back against the log. Her fingers touched his metal gauntlet as she breached his personal space but it was to point out his meaning in her life, "You're not in my dream realm because you're real. You're here alongside me where I need you the most in this world."

Her answer sufficed and he placed a hand on her head in satisfaction. She smiled to his signal of okay since he didn't lecture her about being soft. His shoulders rose as he leaned back against the log and pointed out nonchalantly, "Still, it wouldn't be the end of the world if I was. I have been your protector for- oh, I don't know- more than a year."

"It kills you that Ezio's in there, doesn't it?" she grinned slyly since Altaïr had a tendency to be territorial but it had grown considerably during the last months. Despite her assurances, he didn't believe that she thought higher of him. His lips thinned as he readied himself to deflect the accusation but she squeezed his arm to smile, "I'll try to have him sink in a boat or carried away by his hoard of fans and have you take his place. Better?"

"It's your dream realm, I can't control that" he dismissed airily as he tried not to let himself be affected that he wasn't in her dreams. Yes, they shared reality together but he hoped her subconscious would include him to show that he meant something. He didn't like the spark of jealousy aimed at his unborn relative and tried to displace it. There was no reason to compete with an unborn man but he wanted her eyes focused on him because . . . she was dear to him. There was a close friendship between them that only deepened but he didn't want to face the fact that not only was Vivian's face pleasing but it pleased _him_.

Her eyes were expressive enough that they could occupy him for hours as he tried to guess what ran through her canny mind. Her unruly wavy hair lured him to want to comb her hair with his fingers and tuck it behind her ears to keep her round face clear of it. He'd never been the type of man to pay attention to hair but she brought it out in him somehow. Even when she prodded at a random blemish on her face before her monthly friend arrived drew a chuckle from him before he smacked her hands to prevent making it worse. She had become a cantankerous badger to a sweet one that he wanted to hold and be held in return. When she had huddled against him for the first time while on that eerie bloodletting of hers, he was honored to be trusted enough to be sought for comfort.

Vivian linked her arm through his, catching him off-guard as if she'd read his mind and smiled, "But I can talk to you and you're not going to disappear in a few hours. I prefer you over anyone else in this world and all others. Well, except my family, but apart from relatives, it's you."

She used her other arm to embrace him over the shoulder and smiled when he returned it. He was her blanket of security and she loved each rare hug from him.

Malik noticed a shift of color out of his peripheral vision as he read his book and witnessed their embrace. He would've dismissed it for friendship until he noticed the furrowed eyebrows on Vivian and an appreciative smile. Altaïr's was less expressive as his lips were firmly set together and his brow softened from its stern position but his eyes were half-open with warmth he couldn't distinguish. It didn't take a genius to read the nonverbal cues from both and Malik knew he'd just stepped into something that would soon snowball.

"Do you want to know something?" Vivian spoke sheepishly with a sneaky little smile that only served to draw Altaïr even more. The assassin merely nodded as he kept his grasp on her arms and hoped it would be another confession to how she cherished him more than Ezio and any other man. Her smile widened as she squeezed his arms and answered her own question, "I've never written a song about him, have I?"

His eyes widened to what she'd implied with that question and he realized he hated one thing greater than her songs about him: songs about Ezio.

"_A smoking assassin on Venetian rooftops  
Was burning like a silver flame  
The summit of handsomeness and charm  
And Ezio was his name_

_He's got it_  
_Yeah, baby, he's got it_  
_Well, he's your Adonis_  
_He's your fire, at your desire_  
_Well, he's your Adonis_  
_He's your fire, at your desire_

_His weapons were_  
_His mesmerizing eyes_  
_Making every woman mad_  
_Hooded like the dark night he was_  
_Got what no-one else had_  
_Wow!"_

"Stop! Just stop!" he interrupted swiftly to end the torture about hearing of the man's sexual exploits. The message was clear: the Italian was a charming man that carried massive sex appeal that he didn't have . . . and he was supposed to be better at assassinating! How was he supposed to compete with that?

Vivian feigned a feminine pout while Malik pretended to clear his throat to muffle laughter at the just desserts. It was clearer now that he didn't hate her songs as much as he claimed and he curled against the log in an attempt to ignore them all. Vivian, however, rubbed his shoulders to coax him out of that defensive shell since they weren't trying to make fun of him. It worked faster when she placed her chin on his left shoulder and smiled cheekily, "Now can I return to singing about you and your awesomeness like a companion bard should?"

The gentle brush of his fingertips against hers as they laid on his bicep stirred that familiar warm flutter that left her smiling. His answer was one that she'd awaited for more than a year and the most she could pry from his generosity, "If you must."

"_A grumpy assassin from Masyaf  
Who had risen in the books to fame  
The zenith of skill and badassery  
And Altaïr was his name. . ."_

The sharp-witted historian was quickly earning a rare spot in his heart with each passing day.

* * *

**A/N**: And the trio is well on their way to Quelimane, Mozambique (well, they don't know it yet since they're going by ear) as a true fellowship. Of course, there will be the occasional Malik lecture as he plays father bear but he can finally relax at knowing the two won't be at each other's throats anymore. I recently went to the natural history museum in my city and saw a lot of African animals to use in their encounters, particularly the bold honey badger. I couldn't help but think of Vivian every time I saw a different type of badger (the American badger is so cute) and filled my camera with tons of pictures for fun. lol. Now that Vivian and Altaïr have put all of those wrongly perceived misconceptions behind them, the two are definitely on their road to a budding romance that will bring a lot of laughter.

Thank you for the numerous feedback on my questions, I love hearing both sides from my readers to make a decision. One particular reader, _R_, gave me the best option to suit both sides that want a lemon and those that don't want it and want the story to continue its normal flow. Thus, I will make a separate companion piece when the chapter arrives and I will inform you all with a note so nobody gets lost along the way. It will please both nay's and yay's without disrupting the story.

_Yarotaro_: I'm glad to bring joy into your life with the story's humor.

_Hanane EL Mokkadem_: I have written about a number of things in this crazy story with Vivian, haven't I? lol. I'm surprised (and pleased) to know a lot of people were for the lemon and so it shall be. I'm used to the longer chapters too so I'll be sticking to them, especially since life tends to vary my update times.

_Nate The Grate_: Thanks, I'm happy to bring you an early Christmas present with the updates. This story will always update, I can guarantee you that. :)

_KrnYong_: They would have a tough life learning to think for themselves but I'd like to think it would be far better than what they would've had as slaves. An hour of pure freedom would be worth the hassle of escaping. One thing about Vivian is her pain tolerance, especially given her tough menstruation cycles (which do have a medical condition she'll later realize), so she can take the bumps and bruises thrown her away. Those badgers are resilient, after all. Lol. I like how you pointed out how Altaïr sees himself as a deadly assassin only because Vivian is his humanizing key. As the chapters progress, especially now, she'll be showing him that he can be much more than what Al Mualim raised him to be and it will echo when he's raising his children.

_ThrowingTrees_: There's a lot of variables in pregnancies, whether they'll be successfully brought to term or bring a new gender outside of the AC canon (I did say the story would be a little AU in some parts). Just like Ezio had quite a few illegitimate children of his own that made numerous descendants like Clay and a direct matrimonial line that linked Desmond, Vivian has her part to play. Sef will still be born in 1197 though to maintain that accuracy since I made Darim older by two years.

_Keely_: I've never been prouder to have an OC so loved and thought of as canon by quite a few readers. The burnt drawings were a tear jerker, especially because Vivian had never shed a tear up until that chapter. Just like all artists and writers, her pieces will become better now that Altaïr won't be nagging her. Since the story has Altaïr's codex being longer than what is found in Ezio's time, Vivian will be drawing a picture of Darim and Sef as children for him to encrypt. Of course, the page will be lost when the codex is torn by the seams to separate the pages to stay canon.

_coporal cat_: Thank you for loving the story and Vivian's quirky character!

_Cecilia Green_: There will always be reference to modern games, movies, characters, or occurrences due to Vivian's geeky nature. Lol

_East Coast Captain_: This story is definitely a sharp contrast to Color the Sky, which is more family oriented with the homesteaders and historically accurate. Thank you for taking the time to read it and good luck with your story, which I'm more than happy to help with.

_IsraAl'Attia-Theron_: Your review was cut off but I appreciate you taking the time to type it.

_Hollownature_: Altaïr is definitely not one for emotions but Vivian has humanized him in comparison to how he started while he's given her courage. As for the lemon, they won't be killing the story flow with that humorous example- I can't imagine them doing so without worrying about being caught. I laughed to the enemies twiddling their thumbs part. It will be during their peaceful stay in a port and after months of prodding Vivian to accept his reciprocation of her concealed affection. I'll be making it a companion piece apart from the main story to keep all parties happy.

_Fuzz_: Vivian would definitely love her little baby and she's already great making catchy tunes so she's a living radio for it. Altaïr, on the other hand, would be the flustered father eyeing the child with curiosity and hoping he doesn't have anything sharp on him. Lol

_R_: Thank you for loving the story so much in this fandom, I appreciate it. I'm glad to have written a character that blends well with Altaïr to a point that she's believable and a crowd pleaser. I really liked your idea about a stand-alone piece (thanks for presenting it) because that's exactly what I'm going to do to avoid disrupting the story flow. It will allow those that want to read it to do so and those that don't to click the next chapter button to keep the story going. This story has been a great bonding experience for Altaïr (and the readers) and you're right, it is a love that can be seen with the two simply sitting while reading a book. You made me laugh on the 'Altaïr sex fest' because if it isn't an illogical OC doing the horizontal tango with the man, it's Malik. lol

_h8onme x_: I'm glad you found all of the chapters hilarious, I try to use as many catchy songs and jokes as possible. Haha, I like the sword of fluffiness, I can see Darim or Sef declaring it to their father when they don't get a bedtime story.

_person_: I appreciate all feedback, even if it's against the majority, and R's idea is the best to please both sides.

_Anonymous_: Wow, mostly everyone is in agreement for the little present (not the lemon) because I know it will be a plot twister for the time traveling Vivian.

_Tea is good_: The little gift from an amorous Altaïr will be a good plot twister for Vivian as she struggles to decide what would be best for everyone. At the same time, she'll be kicking herself and keeping it secret to add to that stress.

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: The trio is definitely working as an efficient team now in comparison to the start of the story that had Altaïr lugging around Vivian while Malik headed out alone. Vivian has a lot of potential to become a good infiltrator under Altaïr's training and I think I might go down that road (she won't be an assassin though). As for Malik's reaction to a flat out no from Altaïr, it will come out when they're in Mali and Malik wants to adopt a homeless dog that follows them. The dai has such a big heart in my story to help people and animals (what single lady wouldn't love that?) while Altaïr will be prodded into it by Vivian for the latter.

* * *

**Next Time**: _Vivian and the Great Gender Bender_

As the trio traveled south of the African coast, Malik kept a keen eye on Altaïr's behavior as it began to shift over the weeks. He kept Vivian's company more than his whenever they weren't speaking about assassin business. If there was a camel ride to be undertaken for hours, he would hoist her onto his camel rather than letting her travel with him. Altaïr probably didn't see the difference as he adapted the new actions into his normal everyday behavior but Malik was quite the observer. He wouldn't exactly accuse the man of having an attractive inclination towards Vivian since he was still developing his socializing skills. Still, he'd never seen his friend act that way with any women. During his arrogant days, Altaïr told women to consider themselves lucky for earning his attention and although he treated them respectfully, he always saw himself as being right 100% of the time. It was a trait that managed to squeeze through the hubris purge years ago and the one that led Vivian to clashing with him. However, rather arguing until he was blue in the face, Altaïr conceded when he was wrong and stuck to teasing her by pretending to use a haughty front.

To his great and glorious relief, their new tightknit friendship meant no arguments as they solved everything peacefully. For the first time, he hoped that the end had finally come for hearing 'Malik, would you kindly' because he was done parenting the two. Nowadays, he could do as he wished with his tasks and breathe easy at knowing he didn't have to tell the two to shut up. At the moment, he was enjoying sketching the coastline of Mozambique from a shady spot as they took a rest from traveling. The camels were happily resting under the shade provided by a cave while Malik played caretaker.

As for Vivian and Altaïr, the two were enjoying a private walk down the shore as the cold water cooled their tired feet. The sight of the coast served to remind them that they were close to finding the port to Madagascar to find the next item and afterwards, the western tip of South Africa. For the meantime, Vivian decided to lure the assassin to be carefree in a simple wooden hoop game. During his free time, he had carved the item for her for entertainment as they traveled and now she was pulling him into the fun.

And so, as Altaïr stood on the beach barefoot with breeches pulled up to his knees and a sleeveless tunic . . . he realized he wasn't a beach person. The sand made his toes itchy and he couldn't keep Vivian in place as he jogged after her. Vivian giggled happily as she followed the rolling wooden hoop down the shore, looking back at the stoic assassin. Every once in a while, he hollered about maintaining a close distance in case danger lurked. Vivian trusted him well enough to protect her and she turned around when he hollered again to chide gently, "Come now, I'm having fun with this and I'm from across the ocean centuries from here. Get over here and live a little!"

"Vivian, you would find joy with a torn sack" he stated dryly to her joy with the simplest of things but admired that trait. Who wouldn't love a woman whose laughter and happiness came from something as simple as a wooden hoop? Most women would be happy in finding a suitable husband with sizable property rather than a simple toy of all things! Still, it was why he whittled it for her in the first place as the coast provided ample space for her to explore. Her optimism stayed afloat with each obstacle they faced and he was content watching her play with the wooden hoop over the sand.

She smiled impishly as her feet splashed over the water and waved the stick in his direction to say, "Well, at least my life will have a little joy to hold onto when we jump into the jaws of hell."

Grabbing the hoop off the sand, she held it out towards him and challenged, "Tell you what, you outrun me in a race with this hoop and I'll praise you every time you talk."

"No, that's not enticing enough" he rejected with a small smirk as she waved the hoop in the air. It would be fairly easy to keep the thing upright with a stick and didn't see it as a challenge at all. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that in order to nab an easy win and a hefty prize.

"I'll clean your laundry for a week, even your stinky braies" she grinned smugly to offer her next prize and laughed at the end because washing underwear was not appealing. Admired hero or not, she drew the line as a fan at washing undergarments. If he lived in the modern era, she'd have no issue due to washing machines but scrubbing out stains on underwear was humiliating enough. The only reason she added the last part was to see his face because he was a stickler for being squeaky clean and lacking any body odor.

He grabbed a seashell off the sand and hurled it over her head in retaliation to her jab. How dare she imply he was an unsanitary man? And how dare she mention his underwear! She laughed merrily when he objected indignantly with an offended frown, "My clothes have no foul sweat, you harpy. I accept- just to see your scrunched up red little face when you lose."

* * *

_Thank you for the numerous feedback from the last chapter and if you have time, please review. :)_


	39. Vivian and the Great Gender Bender

**Music Inspiration: **_Howard Shore- "The Adventure Begins" _and_ Jesper Kyd- "Sofia Sartor"  
_

* * *

**Vivian and The Great Gender Bender  
**

* * *

As the trio traveled south of the African coast, Malik kept a keen eye on Altaïr's behavior as it began to shift over the weeks. He kept Vivian's company more than his whenever they weren't speaking about assassin business. If there was a camel ride to be undertaken for hours, he would hoist her onto his camel rather than letting her travel with him. Altaïr probably didn't see the difference as he adapted the new actions into his normal everyday behavior but Malik was quite the observer. He wouldn't exactly accuse the man of having an attractive inclination towards Vivian since he was still developing his socializing skills. Still, he'd never seen his friend act that way with any women. During his arrogant days, Altaïr told women to consider themselves lucky for earning his attention and although he treated them respectfully, he always saw himself as being right 100% of the time. It was a trait that managed to squeeze through the hubris purge years ago and the one that led Vivian to clashing with him. However, rather arguing until he was blue in the face, Altaïr conceded when he was wrong and stuck to teasing her by pretending to use a haughty front.

To his great and glorious relief, their new tightknit friendship meant no arguments as they solved everything peacefully. For the first time, he hoped that the end had finally come for hearing 'Malik, would you kindly' because he was done parenting the two. Nowadays, he could do as he wished with his tasks and breathe easy at knowing he didn't have to tell the two to shut up. At the moment, he was enjoying sketching the coastline of Mozambique from a shady spot as they took a rest from traveling. The camels were happily resting under the shade provided by a cave while Malik played caretaker.

As for Vivian and Altaïr, the two were enjoying a private walk down the shore as the cold water cooled their tired feet. The sight of the coast served to remind them that they were close to finding the port to Madagascar to find the next item and afterwards, the western tip of South Africa. For the meantime, Vivian decided to lure the assassin to be carefree in a simple wooden hoop game. During his free time, he had carved the item for her for entertainment as they traveled and now she was pulling him into the fun.

And so, as Altaïr stood on the beach barefoot with breeches pulled up to his knees and a sleeveless tunic . . . he realized he wasn't a beach person. The sand made his toes itchy and he couldn't keep Vivian in place as he jogged after her. Vivian giggled happily as she followed the rolling wooden hoop down the shore, looking back at the stoic assassin. Every once in a while, he hollered about maintaining a close distance in case danger lurked. Vivian trusted him well enough to protect her and she turned around when he hollered again to chide gently, "Come now, I'm having fun with this and I'm from across the ocean centuries from here. Get over here and live a little!"

"Vivian, you would find joy with a torn sack" he stated dryly to her joy with the simplest of things but admired that trait. Who wouldn't love a woman whose laughter and happiness came from something as simple as a wooden hoop? Most women would be happy in finding a suitable husband with sizable property rather than a simple _toy_ of all things! Still, it was why he whittled it for her in the first place as the coast provided ample space for her to explore. Her optimism stayed afloat with each obstacle they faced and he was content watching her play with the wooden hoop over the sand.

She smiled impishly as her feet splashed over the water and waved the stick in his direction to say, "Well, at least my life will have a little joy to hold onto when we jump into the jaws of hell."

Grabbing the hoop off the sand, she held it out towards him and challenged, "Tell you what, you outrun me in a race with this hoop and I'll praise you every time you talk."

"No, that's not enticing enough" he rejected with a small smirk as she waved the hoop in the air. It would be fairly easy to keep the thing upright with a stick and didn't see it as a challenge at all. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that in order to nab an easy win and a hefty prize.

"I'll clean your laundry for a week, even your stinky braies" she grinned smugly to offer her next prize and laughed at the end because washing underwear was not appealing. Admired hero or not, she drew the line as a fan at washing undergarments. If he lived in the modern era, she'd have no issue due to washing machines but scrubbing out stains on underwear was humiliating enough. The only reason she added the last part was to see his face because he was a stickler for being squeaky clean and lacking any body odor.

He grabbed a seashell off the sand and hurled it over her head in retaliation to her jab. How dare she imply he was an unsanitary man? And how dare she mention his underwear! She laughed merrily when he objected indignantly with an offended frown, "My clothes have no foul sweat, you harpy. I accept- just to see your scrunched up red little face when you lose."

"You just want a maid, don't you?" she asked flatly with amusement and he chuckled because who wouldn't enjoy free clothes washing? Whenever she went to wash her clothes, he threw in his colored clothing without asking and threw a thank you. Half of the time, she chucked it right back and only agreed when he offered to take care of a task for her. She turned the hoop in her hands like a steering wheel and grinned cheekily, "I know for a fact you've seen all of my sore loser faces. You've beaten me at everything but cooking and that's only because you pour _handfuls_ of salt into everything."

"It makes food tasty" he reasoned with a pout to his lack of culinary skills. Assassins weren't made to be world class chefs . . . although it would make it easier to poison a Templar's food supply. Hmm, he would keep that in mind when he returned to Masyaf.

"It will also kill your arteries given enough time" she pointed out sarcastically since an assassin with hypertension would be ironic because he was incredibly lean. During their stay in Lake Victoria, she managed to nab a feel of his upper torso (not intentionally, of course) and the man was more muscle than bone. Regardless of his physical fitness, the man ate horribly in the terms of nutrition but she couldn't blame him when education and adequate food wasn't available. The only reason they currently ate well was due to naturally caught food but when they shopped at a bazaar, Altaïr usually bought the cheapest items to save money. This, of course meant, pieces with more fat than meat and grains that weren't the best of the crop. She lowered the hoop to smile earnestly in regards to his health but stated matter-of-factly, "I want you to die an old man or honorably- not sweating like a hog while you eat a super salty lamb chop."

This time, he had to chuckle softly to her imagination because he wouldn't want the latter either out of embarrassment. Age would slowly decrease the efficiency of his skills and he'd rather have them that way rather than lose them due to health issues of his own making. She surprised him with the next words out of her mouth, "I'd rather you die a wrinkly but handsomely healthy old man than one that can barely reach for his coveted salt while he wheezes from heart failure."

Every time she complimented him, he had the urge to grasp her shoulders in a fond squeeze but stayed his hand. He had no right to do that, right? She was a little badger meant to scuttle back to her family in the future time. If he decided to tie her up and drag her to Masyaf to stay with him, she'd undoubtedly hate him . . . but why did he want to keep her so close? Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Vivian set her wooden hoop on the sand and call out, "Get ready and. . .Go!"

She took off with her stick leading the hoop down the coast and Altaïr gave chase when he saw her running. Further north of the coast, Malik merely batted an eye and reasoned that whatever was happening . . . was best left up to them without him playing monkey in the middle. Altaïr didn't take very long to catch up to her due to his longer strides and Vivian saw his stick getting close to the hoop in an attempt to swipe it away.

She grabbed the famous maroon sash from behind to cause him to falter in his run and he yelled accusingly, "You're cheating, Vivian!"

"It's only to spare my nose the horror" she shot back with a laugh but released him as she tried to get an edge in by honorable means. It was easier said than done! His agility and dexterity were enough to keep her from pushing ahead in their run as he took control of the hoop.

"Cheaters never win, you scamp!" he chastised and began to outrun her with ease as his longer legs helped to cover the distance at a faster pace. The man was like an Olympic marathon runner while she was a couch potato against him. What was he, the Bionic Man? She couldn't outrun a master that did parkour on a daily basis and had more stamina in those long lean legs than her short stubbier ones.

Altaïr won the race when he passed a decomposing log (their win marker) while Vivian tumbled into the sand in her haste to finish. Well, she tried her best and received a nice mouthful of sand in return. The winner, however, raised the hoop over his head in victory before chucking it aside carelessly as he savored his win. Turning around, he found Vivian lying on the sand as she pouted to her loss but chucked when she saw him resemble Rocky Balboa.

He helped Vivian stand on her feet as she wiped her mouth free of sand and dusted herself off. The winning smirk on his face didn't make the loss easier and her shoulders slumped as she sighed with dramatic misery, "Do you want to smell like fresh soap or sunlight fried clothes?"

He snorted to her little quip since clothes barely carried washing scents until you mixed in herbs into the cleaning water. When none of his companions were looking his way, he cut sprigs of herbs to place within his clothes as he folded them to keep them from smelling. It was an era without deodorant and where body odor became an entity itself so they were all meticulous about their hygiene. Besides, he didn't want to revolt his enemies during a mission.

She wagged her finger quickly to show that she wasn't done and added in, "But I'm not washing underwear, mister, that's private assassin territory. For all I know, it'll automatically make me your wife and you already hate my cooking."

"I won't demean either of us" he stated coolly because he wasn't letting anyone look at his undergarments and poked the tip of her nose. She smiled to the physical touch "Besides, I wouldn't want to make you jealous with my washing talents as a husband. I'd only be good for cleaning, protection, and lovemaking."

"Your single hip gyrating move doesn't make you great" she scoffed to chide him since the archaic era had yet to witness the liberties of sex and watched his brow twitch with offense to her witty jab. How dare she claim he was subpar in the bedroom arena? Well, he probably _was_ but she didn't need to know that! He chased her down the beach for the cocky jab as she ran with a giddy laugh for winning the verbal round. Well, at least she could claim a tiny Lego sized victory there.

He caught her with ease as her speed didn't add any difficulty to his running, grasping her by the shoulders. She'd never best him at anything- well, maybe playing a decoy- but he kept her growing skills sharp. Her laughter echoed through the beach as he pulled her to his chest to keep her at bay before she escaped his sight like a true imp.

"I'll be a good girl now, I promise" she chuckled jovially as her playful mood calmed since running alongside him pushed her limitations to the max. It didn't take much on his part to catch her so she'd be out of breath faster than he would. He released her on her word and she smiled brightly at being free, smoothing out her robes. He couldn't help but snort to her vain attempt to appear sophisticated in the middle of nowhere but then again, he'd nagged her repeatedly in the past year about it. She shook her shoes to throw off sand and piped up cheerfully, "How about a victory song?"

"You didn't win" he scoffed playfully and flicked the bottom of her ear gently. Each time he managed a touch on her skin brought him delight and her smile doubled it.

She waved a hand in dismissal and reminded matter-of-factly, "When have I ever sung about myself? This is the 'Altaïr Show' I'm running here."

He chuckled softly to her enthusiastic dramatizing and wondered what she had up her sleeve when she began,

"_There are despots and dictators  
Political manipulators  
There are blue bloods with the intellects of fleas  
There are kings and petty tyrants  
Who are so lacking in refinements  
They'd be better suited swinging from the trees_

_He was born and raised to kill  
No one has ever had his skill  
In a thousand years of Creed democracy  
An enigma and a mystery  
In Syrian History  
The quintessence of perfection that is he_

_He's the sovereign mentor of the Assassin nation  
He's the sternest dude in creation  
He's a hep cat in the grand master's new clothes  
Years of such selective breeding  
Generations of Adam have been leading  
To this miracle of life that we all know_

_What's his name?  
Altaïr, Altaïr, Altaïr..._

_He's the grand master of the Order  
He's the one to cease Templar disorders  
He's the alpha, the omega, a to z  
And this perfect world will spin  
Around his every little whim  
'Cause this perfect world begins and ends with him_

_What's his name?  
Altaïr, Altaïr, Altaïr!"_

"Vivian" he laughed aloud to her eccentric dancing as she wiggled her hips and shook her hands in the air. For the first time, he wasn't chastising her song and she waved one finger to tell him she wasn't done with her crafty music.

"_You'd be the coolest dude in the nation  
Or the best assassin in creation  
But if you ain't got friends then nothing's  
Worth the fuss  
A perfect world will come to be  
When everybody here can see  
That a perfect world begins and ends  
A perfect world begins and ends  
A perfect world begins and ends with us_

_What's his name?  
Altaïr, Altaïr, Altaïr. . .  
Altaïr, Altaïr, Alta-a-a-aïr."_

She finished dancing her silly little jig while he merely watched with an indifferent face but his eyes said otherwise. They were filled with mirth at watching her careless dancing and she stopped to wipe her brow with a smile, "You'll never stop this rhyming wagon."

She stuck out her hand to draw him towards the shoreline, holding the wooden hoop under the other arm. Hesitation pricked at his mind since Vivian was unreadable with her sneaky mind but her smile held no mischief as she gazed at him. The red tinting on the apple of her cheeks brought a smile from him as all of her imperfections- from her horrible singing, boyish style of dress, insane fear of insects- made her perfect in her own way. She was growing on him in ways he wouldn't have imagined months ago and although his mission was crystal clear, his eye was straying to his little partner in crime that failed to leave his side.

He grasped her hand, allowing her to lead him down the shoreline as they left their footprints in the sand as their temporary marker in time. His fingers entwined between hers to make sure she didn't scamper off without him and to explore that physical bonding he sought to understand. When she didn't object to his action, he smiled faintly for the opportunity and asked, "Where are we going?"

"To find Malik and make a sandcastle" she answered cheerfully because she'd make the best of her time being on the beach. After wandering the hot desert and humid jungles, the coast was a pleasing contrast to enjoy with its breezy climate and empty shores. She missed being close to the ocean after living her life next to the Pacific Ocean and told him with a happy grin, "You can't spend a day at the beach without making a sand castle. It's mandatory and an assassin _never_ sullies his honor."

"It won't bring me embarrassment, will it?" he asked suspiciously and tugged her hand to halt her. Vivian tended to do some crazy things he didn't agree with due to his cautious nature but she shook her head.

"No, just enjoyable fun as ordinary people" she smiled sincerely and pulled him onwards but his strong build caused her to bounce back like flubber. She hit her back against his side from the resistance as he failed to move with her. Hmm, was he exhibiting dominant doggy behavior now that she was overstimulated with the open coast? Her eyes narrowed humorously as she grinned to his easy maneuver to subdue her and chuckled, "You are a marble wall, Mr. Assassin. Strong and sleek with your polished edge to withstand time."

His honey hued gaze met hers and she felt her heart flutter from the piercing amber flecks as she saw the warmth in his eyes. My, could he be any more attractive? Where was Ezio when she sorely needed him? He could kill her mood with a single flirty comment. She averted her gaze since staring at him was comparable to the sun and she didn't want to end up a pile of goo from her attraction to him. Her humor defense came wonderfully in handy to avoid blushing like a schoolgirl with her very first crush and she joked, "I'm like a river pebble- loves traveling anywhere and has multiple uses when I'm fished out."

"Even the most common stone can be beautiful" he murmured softly and she felt like sappy goo all over again as her heart beat faster. Curse her physiological reactions! How was she supposed to beat back her attraction when he uttered things like that? Still, she couldn't help gushing over the comment and smiled in gratitude. It wasn't every day that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad offered a compliment and she'd seize it to chew on its goodness for a long while. The inner fangirl hugging her Altaïr plushy exploded into confetti when he added in, "I'm glad you like traveling with me so I hope you won't be fished out soon."

Her cheeks remained with their rosy tint when he led her on a leisurely paced walk down the beach, hand in hand.

That. . . .simply complicated things for her.

* * *

Their arrival to the port of Quelimane was not what they expected because luck was with them that Arabic influence was strong in the small settlement. There were Swahili speaking tribes that passed by since the port was a trading post due to the Indian Ocean. It was a much calmer setting than Lake Victoria as fishermen filled the docks and merchants piled into the large bazaars every morning. Inns were scattered throughout the small single level wooden homes with their dried palm leaf roofs that welcomed visitors. It was a quaint setting for any weary traveler and Vivian felt perfection click into place as her mood lightened to the breezy temperature. Oh, how it reminded her of home along the coast!

The downside to their arrival was that Madagascar was currently under a heavy cyclone season and no chartered boats would be sailing until the season ended. This meant the group was stranded for at least two months on shore until the sea was calm enough to travel on without sudden danger. This, of course, didn't sit well with an impatient Altaïr and he'd tried to buy his way onto a ship with all the money they had collected. Lacking the social charisma that Malik held and the patience of Vivian, the master assassin was literally dragged away from the empty docks by twelve men. Yeah, it was _that_ bad that an embarrassed Vivian counted herself lucky they weren't kicked out of the port immediately for causing trouble. Malik played his peacemaker card by lying to them that Altaïr had mood problems and believed himself to be the undisputed leader of the world. With the way he'd acted, it wasn't a farfetched idea and the men believed it.

They had found a place for lodging but money would be tight since braving the elements in their tents would only bring them illness. The hot interior of Africa was different in comparison to its breezy coast and they were forced to sleep indoors. Flooding was common during the rainy season so they had to keep safe, regardless of how great a survivalist Altaïr was. Saving money for shelter, the chartered boat, and food put them to crunch the numbers on the first night and they were forced to make a tough decision. It was one that made Altaïr shiver (that's right- shiver) with unease: they would have to do some odd jobs around Quelimane to gather extra money to survive.

Nobody said surviving in Assassin's Creed was easy and since they weren't financially well-off like Ezio, the trio was financially screwed. Altaïr had objected shrewdly to the idea, mainly because he wasn't accustomed to dealing with people nor had any passive non-assassinating skills. He wasn't a civilian in the slightest and it made him uneasy at having to interact with others. The residents of Quelimane were courteous enough to them and with the lack of malevolent business practices, the trio felt fine wandering the town on their own. First, however, they needed to form a plan on how to find a job to support themselves.

"Somehow, I don't see Mr. Ominous as the type to play with others" Vivian joked playfully as they sat in the men's shared room at the inn. Altaïr would no longer brave the elements until nighttime to crawl inside because they had rented two rooms. One was for Vivian so she could finally enjoy some femininity to herself and the other was for the two men.

Altaïr had almost committed a social faux pas when he walked straight into Vivian's bedroom to share it with her until Malik yanked him back out. He'd become accustomed to sleeping next to her at Lake Victoria and beside her tent during travel that he'd felt a natural attachment to her. Malik, however, had nipped it in the bud to save Vivian's reputation and any wandering stares from Altaïr's end. Vivian had arrived in the guise of a single woman traveling with her cousins and Malik didn't hesitate to remind him that men wouldn't be sharing her room. After growing protective of her, he'd been extremely reluctant to release her but abided to avoid being questioned on his motive. He would miss speaking to her before heading off to sleep but maybe he could find a way to sneak that in without Malik noticing.

"And I don't see a woman getting a job" he shot back competitively and dodged a bar of soap aimed for his head. He caught it with perfect ease as he paced circles around the room to waste his impatient energy and purposely wear himself out. It was the best method for avoiding a quarrel as his temper stayed at a minimum and he smirked with sarcasm on his tongue, "Thank you for the free soap. Care to wager?"

"With what? We're piss poor" she laughed miserably to their sorry financial status as the weather hampered it. This was the first time they were truly worried about running out of food and fishing could only sustain them for so long before they tired of it. They couldn't even sell fish they caught since fishing was the prime trade at the port.

"Bragging rights" he grinned smartly and Malik shot him a warning glare since it would most likely send the two into a ridiculous challenge. He'd seen them stuff lentils into their mouth to see who could eat them the fastest, who could wash clothes the best, and a staring contest that ended when Vivian sneezed directly in Altaïr's face. The two had an odd friendship but it was one that Altaïr treasured and Malik let them be to the rarity of him having friends. Well, that and the bountiful free time he'd earned since he no longer had to play keeper.

Vivian saw it as friendly competition but if he went overboard, she'd break a chair over his head. Well, not really, but only because she'd die if he returned the sentiment while he'd walk away unscathed. She grinned confidently because she was a master of disguise by now and accepted, "You're on! Whoever lasts longest on their job earns the right to brag."

. . . Malik won the bet without even trying or participating in the challenge.

Malik's charismatic personality granted him a temporary position working at the administration building within the span of two days. His educated mind, not to mention his writing ability, gave him the skills to succeed in an everyday civilian job. Since their stay was temporary, he had been hired to help with paperwork related to Quelimane's trading economy. Altaïr wanted to enjoy his time running free over rooftops but since that wouldn't bring in money, reluctantly set out to find his first civilian job in life. Unfortunately, it wasn't what he'd hoped for.

The dai signed him up as a fisherman's assistant to enjoy hard honest work at preparing nets and gutting fish. Vivian attempted to follow Malik into his line of work by showing her knowledge and ability to speak multiple languages. It was in vain, however, since women were practically seen as baby poppers and she was chased away like a pest. Instead, she was forced to disguise herself as a young charismatic man of twenty to help sell produce from a vendor nice enough to hire her- er, _him_.

The first day had been horrible for Altaïr as he came home reeking of fish and Malik left to share Vivian's room for refuge. Vivian's alter ego claimed he lived with his sister, Zara, so it came in handy when the family of four visited each other's rooms. The largest role change came to both Vivian and Altaïr as she was forced to pull a gender bender and he was cast into the role of an average man without the robes. He kept the gauntlet on his wrist for security but he felt naked for a week without having his beloved hood over his head. Vivian sewed a handmade hood to his brown tunic to help him feel comfortable and he'd returned to his disgruntled turtle look- until it was time to work.

Each early morning was a hassle to wake the assassin as he and Vivian were the first to leave for their jobs. It wasn't that he didn't like waking up before the crack of dawn but gutting fish and bearing the smell was enough to send him into a depression. He wasn't meant to gut fish- he was meant to gut Templars!

Vivian tried to make light of the situation by cheering him up during breakfast on the eight day. It always surprised him to see a short man with a scruffy ponytail leave Vivian's room until he remembered it was her. She used natural powder dyes to contour her face with masculine features just as she had with her makeup back home to highlight her cheekbones. A dash of color darkened her skin tone to avoid looking like a male copy of herself and she added black powder to her eyebrows to thicken them to match a man's. All in all, she made a decent vertically challenged man.

Any small attraction that Altaïr denied went away instantly when he gazed at this male Vivian. His tenacious badger had turned into a charismatic coyote that he didn't like at all! The only thing that remained was her green eyes and friendly smile as she joked with her normal voice, "I know this isn't your everyday job but you get to assassinate yummy fish."

"It's not the same, Vivian, and I smell _horribly_ afterwards" he muttered flatly as he poked his porridge meal lethargically. He didn't look forward to his day and once work was over, he dealt with its aftermath while his companions were free to relax. They could escape the horrible smell while he was held prisoner to that foul entity that seeped into his skin.

Being the only two people awake downstairs, Vivian smiled sympathetically and comforted, "Well, there's only one thing I can say then. . .

_If there's a task that must be done,  
Don't turn your tail and run.  
Don't pout,  
Don't sob,  
Just do a half-assed job."_

"I'm an all-ass kind of man" he pointed out curtly because laziness wasn't in his language and watched Vivian snicker into her hand. He didn't groan at the verbal pitfall he'd fallen into due to his crappy new life and merely poked his porridge again. There had been brief moments when he'd wondered what kind of civilian life he would've led and this new job was _not_ what he'd imagined.

Vivian grabbed his right hand to stop poking the poor abused porridge for the tenth time and encouraged, "It's only two months. Time goes by very fast and we'll be heading to Madagascar before you know it."

He muttered noncommittally because he'd rather steal a ship and sail off at this point. Vivian grabbed the spoon from his fingers to dip it into the food and raised it to smile playfully, "Here comes the assassin boat heading to the Mediterranean."

"I'm not a child, Vivian" he objected to her attempt to force feed him but grabbed the spoon from her fingers to eat. It was a small victory for her since he needed to keep up his strength for the long hours at sea and on the dock. She understood that this wasn't the best time of his life but she needed him to bear through it in good health. His fingertips brushed against hers as her free hand stood ready to spoon feed him and he spoke kindly, "Thank you for your henpecking."

"It's my best and most annoying trait" she chuckled good-naturedly about her natural mothering towards her friends. He needed someone to soothe his worries and wipe the brief flickers of uncertainty in his eyes so she would be his rock. Altaïr managed a faint smile to her comment because he wouldn't argue that but appreciated her concern for him.

* * *

Week two brought the collapse of Altaïr's willpower when he stormed into his room furiously to yell his lungs out, "We need to leave now. I _cannot_ smell like this every fluffing day!"

He didn't say fluffing, folks.

Malik tried to hold back his laughter since his friend's tunic was soaking wet with sea water and crimson-purple blots of where fish guts had been splattered. The smell emanating from Altaïr, however, took the crown because he was finicky about being immaculate and clean. The man wasn't lying when he said he reeked and the dai wondered just what he stepped out of or into. Malik tried to calm him by pointing out why they had to work in the first place, "We need the money, Altaïr. I understand that this is very different than your old job-"

"Malik, I smell like a rotting carcass!" the assassin shouted disgustedly and gripped the front of his shirt to emphasize. No human being should smell like that! He was accustomed to wearing pristine white robes with the occasional dirt patch around his joints- not fishy smelling clothes! His face was contorted into one of pure disgust, a rarity for the stoic man, and he exclaimed heatedly, "This is not me!"

"It is only for a short time" he sympathized as Altaïr tore off his shirt to throw it in an empty wooden bowl on the floor with distaste. He could still feel the cold dampness of the cloth on his skin and decided whether to wash or burn the thing. He couldn't bear wearing anything that smelled of dead fish and hoped he wouldn't go to bed with it. The man was a raging bull as he paced around their room shirtless and Malik pointed out, "You don't hear Vivian and me complaining."

"You have a perfect civilian job and Vivian sells food by flirting with housewives. . . why don't I find that strange but a little arousing?" the assassin ranted to relieve his annoyance and then blinked with bewilderment at the end. Vivian was an odd woman but her recent behavior took the prize in the absurd as she played a man and charmed women.

Malik shrugged since Vivian easily won the attention of women as being one granted her the inner workings of their minds. She pushed back male attention when she wandered the town as herself because there weren't any people of English descent in Quelimane. For the first time, she was experiencing male interest but she scuttled off quickly to avoid any type of entanglements. Malik shrugged noncommittally about her wanderings in town as either a man or herself and pointed out simply, "She's Vivian, we will never understand."

"I'd rather sell produce and seduce women instead of coming home smelling of puke" Altaïr hissed irritably and scrubbed his arms with his bare hands in a vain attempt to remove the stink. Malik shot him a glance that told him he didn't think he'd succeed since he repelled women rather than charming them. Altaïr grumbled because he wasn't going to go out to seduce women and muttered, "Oh, forget it. I should just bathe in the sea and pray a shark decides to shred me into a hundred pieces."

"Now you're being melodramatic" Malik sighed to his antics because he wasn't that insane yet. The man was a grumpy one when he wasn't in control and being covered in fish guts didn't help matters any. For the moment, it provided them money for survival until they could board a ship and ordered, "Go take a bath and drink some milk like a good boy."

Altaïr narrowed his eyes for being brushed off as an insolent toddler and snapped, "I'm not a child . . . but I would like some milk."

Vivian opened the door to enter the room as she arrived from work at the produce stand and her eyes landed on the shirtless Altaïr. What had she just stepped into? The man was practically hairless (except for a soft patch on his chest and a tantalizing trail traveling down his navel) and envied the chiseled physique that flaunted each taut muscle. Why was she shown this sight _now_ of all times? It was bad enough when she'd seen him the first few times but that was before her affection flourished. Her attraction to the man, however, was thankfully hindered by the putrid smell filling the room and she gagged, "By Odin's bountiful beard, what foul creature died in here?"

"It's seeped into my flesh!" Altaïr yelled accusingly to his awful job and proceeded to rub his arms again obsessively. He didn't want to smell like death and wanted to quit his job immediately. If he'd known this was what Malik had in mind, he would've rejected the offer before he'd stepped onto that accursed dock. Vivian compared his erratic pacing to the crazy NPC's by the docks in Acre from the game as he ranted, "By the creed, this better leave before we set sail for Madagascar or I will exterminate all the fish here!"

"The entire Indian Ocean?" she snorted amusingly as her bushy eyebrows furrowed together. As a modern woman, it had been easy to use different powders to change her features and she'd tied her hair back into a low ponytail in tribute to Ezio. May the man bed many beautiful ladies in his quest for justice and may she return to see all of it (his assassin quest, not the booty conquest).

"The bath, Altaïr" Malik reminded flatly as he returned to reading his book because he enjoyed unwinding after a job well done. It was odd for him to be stationary, even as his time as a bureau's rafiq, because he was doing a different job that didn't involve the brotherhood. Altaïr frowned like a scolded boy because nobody cared about his fishy problem. Was it too much to ask for a little attention?

He turned to Vivian in a last attempt to garner attention but winced when he saw that she was dressed as her alter ego. Where had his little partner gone in place of this physically unappealing man? Even if he hugged her, the ponytail was too ambiguous to remind him of her. Vivian smirked to his visible cringe because it was a wonderful repellant to keep her feelings at bay and chuckled, "Go take your bath, Rub-A-Dub-Dub."

With great regret, he did.

The third week brought Altaïr's defeat as he submitted to being plagued with the smell of fish for the rest of his stay and ranted at anybody who stared at him on his way home. It soured his mood at knowing Malik ignored his plight and Vivian. . .he honestly didn't know _what_ the hell was going on in her mind, especially when he saw her parading down the street with two women in her arms. The historian was fitting in perfectly in town with her manly disguise and even her true appearance made a better splash than he did. Again, the ranting definitely didn't help matters. He cornered her two days later in her room as she wiped her face clear of her makeup to reveal her true self. She'd just arrived from work and held patches of dirt on her clothes from fetching and preparing produce.

"Is there something you want to tell Malik and me?" he asked as he poured himself a glass of water without asking for permission. She jumped in surprise because she hadn't expected him to follow her inside after greeting him in the hallway. The man was a stealthy cat when he walked and if she'd been his target, she would've been dead on the floor by now. Her green eyes blinked with confusion to what he was implying and he pointed out shrewdly, "The flirting with the town's women and the handkerchiefs in your pockets?"

"Oh, that" she grinned cheekily and waved one of a canary hue towards Altaïr with a charming wink. He snatched it out of her hand but stuffed it into his pocket to show off to the men at the docks so he wasn't a lost case at seducing women. That same handkerchief would bring him an angry storming husband mistaking him for Vivian's alter ego a few days later but let's get back to the original story.

She saw his nonnegotiable 'I mean business' look and freed her hair from her ponytail to sigh softly. He had never been onboard with her masquerading but Vivian saw it as necessary for their survival. Somehow, educating him about the undercover tactics of present day detectives wouldn't help her cause with the cranky man. Kicking off her dusty work boots, she smiled pleasantly to calm him and explained, "I'm empowering women to be proactive with their lives. It's just harmless flirting from a man that makes them see that women are more than just baby poppers. They are women with skills, not to mention great intelligence, and deserve the same respect as a man."

"Don't say that word" Altaïr grimaced with a shiver as the physiology of the woman's body frightened him like the endless sea. It was bad enough when she was on that horrible bloodletting and privately praised Maria for bearing his child in Masyaf. Otherwise, he would've run around like a chicken with his head cut off. There wasn't a day he didn't think about his son because although he and Maria weren't in love, there was love for that child. He didn't hesitate to remind Vivian about their social rules as he saw her futuristic traits filtering through, "You can be seen as a troublemaker because marriage is sacred here. You will endanger yourself as well as their lives."

"I took care of that, I'm sterile and interested in exploring the world only- no relationships to either gender despite my delicious charm" Vivian answered brightly with a witty grin to her alter ego, who she was fully embracing. She'd give Ezio a run for his money with the way she swaggered through town. With the lack of real danger in the quaint town, Vivian felt at home as she had in Berkeley and declared proudly, "I am Zevran, the shameless flirt that knocks off ladies socks while enjoying a beer to be one of the guys."

"Have you gone insane? Where does all of this come from?" he asked with bewilderment because she seemed content with life despite playing a farce. How could she parade herself without an ounce of shame? He didn't wink at every woman that stopped by the docks! He could barely hold a conversation about everyday life and when he hit a snag, he turned to the weather. It was probably the main reason women scurried away (that and brandishing a weapon at them) but he stood by his actions, no matter how perplexing they were. To be frank, he envied her adaptability to their surroundings and asked simply, "How are you comfortable parading around with both genders?"

"Easy, I'm that awesome" she grinned mischievously as he stared at her skeptically. She'd been a nervous mess when they'd met and always watched her words out of worry that she'd insult somebody. It seemed his little nervous lamb had become a confident coyote and no longer needed him at her side. He didn't like this. Vivian merely kept the silly grin slapped on and waved a hand to dismiss jovially, "But seriously, between you and me, men are my fancy. Oh, the eye candy gaming companies create. Mmm-hmm."

He aimed a flat stare to her delirious grin towards whatever erotic images she was conjuring and stated, "I find that hard to believe when Zevran has been seen kissing the ladies and breaking pints of beer over men's heads."

Vivian laughed cheerfully as she began to live through her disguise and answered, "So? I'm exploring. A kiss on the cheek is one thing and in my culture, serves as a greeting between family and friends so it's not bad. I'm sure plenty of Spaniards are doing this as I speak. Diseases of all kinds are rampant nowadays so kissing and rolling in the hay are two things that Zevran does not do because he belongs to the world. This body is a temple-"

"You're not Zevran!" he exclaimed matter-of-factly because he had trouble telling the two apart already. Both personas were charmingly witty but while Vivian held reserve, this Zevran identity was unabashed. How could she fit into the town so easily while he was struggling? She was for a different time era for science's sake!

"Crap, I might need to update my makeup" Vivian grumbled as she moved to go towards her makeup desk but he pulled her back to the bed. She hated the way his calloused fingers gently scratched her wrists as he pressed her back against his chest, ashamed that she loved it too. The two fidgeted in their struggle as he tugged towards the bed to sit while she tugged towards the dresser. At one point, Vivian was certain they were hissing like animals but he managed to gain the upper hand easily.

She avoided the fact she was sitting on his left leg like a child and stated calmly, "Altaïr, I'm living life in the past so unless I start getting manly attention as myself, you have no trouble."

"Are you going to stop flirting with people?" he questioned with a stern expression as he kept her pinned to his lap by the waist. She huffed to the fact he was dictating her successful person and for treating her a little child-like in the position they were in. First, he was trying to breathe independence into her and now he was sucking it back like a black hole? She didn't want to cave in to his demands but he pointed out curtly, "These times are different and we're in a land that isn't like either of our homes. Now, will you agree?"

"Will you agree that this position is a little creepy?" she asked with distaste because sitting in his lap was unappealing in that position. What was she? A stripper? On the other hand, it could've been worse by accidentally straddling him. Altaïr took notice of he kept her pinned to his leg and simply deposited her on the bed like a sack of potatoes to avoid being caught by anybody walking by the open door.

She scrambled to sit up straight as he glared at her for an answer to his request and out of fear of repeating the child on the knee scene, agreed, "Fine."

* * *

She didn't.

His endless nagging the next day did nothing to get Malik to say something to Vivian and Altaïr's paranoid mind suspected a conspiracy was at work. Why was Malik getting attention from women via Vivian's crafty hand when he was there with his rugged good looks? Wasn't he handsome as well? Then again, the fishy smell made them run for the hills. By the creed, he hated everything about the port they lived at! He wasn't a quitter by nature and that kept him from telling the fishermen to take the job and pin it on another poor soul. Of course, that would bring Malik's and Vivian's wrath upon him for slacking off. For now, he would focus his irritation on this Zevran character and how to kill him out of Vivian's character book.

Vivian had been enjoying time as herself on the rooftop of the inn after sunset to cool off from a long day of physical labor. She used the ever handy and never outdated ladder since she lacked Spiderman abilities. Malik had gone off to help with a well or get somebody out of it- she didn't really pay attention since she'd been starving for food. As Zevran, there were days she could catch free meals by entertaining masses by telling dramatic stories or songs but today had not been one of those days. Part of her felt tempted to stay in the little town after becoming such a sensation but she'd be living a lie. It felt incredibly wonderful to be part of normal society without danger involved but she needed to return home to her family. Her little blue house in Berkeley was where she belonged and nobody could change that.

Of course, Altaïr struck fear into her when he jumped onto the rooftop from out of nowhere like a madman. The man was fit enough to be a stuntman in a horror film and she resisted from kicking him in the kneecap as he loomed over her. She squeaked with surprise to seeing the return of the watchful eagle and sat up to stare at him with bewilderment. He crouched on all fours as he clambered safely onto the palm leaf roof and accused with a jabbing index finger, "You promised!"

"You know how childish you sound?" she scoffed sarcastically to his whining but patted the spot next to her to invite him to sit down. The assassin turned fish gutter plopped down with a long sigh as she watched the sea but he frowned visibly when she pinched her nose. His confidence plummeted to the darkest pit of the ocean when she exhaled deeply with disbelief, "Dear me, you smell worse with each day."

"That was established weeks ago" he stated darkly with self-disgust and she joked about him being a natural bomb at killing Templars. It wasn't the best idea to imagine because he'd rather have his enemies fear him due to his skills rather than his body odor. Regardless of his horrible scent, he was there to put emphasis on her behavior around town before it was out of hand. He couldn't watch over her anymore as they took on civilian roles and he pointed out firmly, "I don't want to have to rescue you from the masses of angry husbands and suitors that will eventually mob you. You're walking on a thin line here, Vivian."

"No, I have that covered, I give them bedroom tips and share a beer" she grinned impishly and he buried his head into his hands to the crazy woman. Their journey for the past year had subdued most of her bubbly personality but Quelimane stirred something bold in her demeanor. She was almost unchained to society's rules and used her disguise to channel her true personality traits of adventurous wonder. She could stroll through the streets, talk unabashedly like a man (or modern woman), and eat her fill without worrying about mannerisms. It was unlimited freedom for her and she loved every minute of it! Zevran allowed her to escape from the cautious Vivian that traveled alongside him and she smiled widely, "They can realize how much help a woman can be rather than sitting around at home being baby popper-"

"Please don't finish that" Altaïr shuddered to that image and she patted his back to comfort him. For the first time, he thought about leaning against her to bask in that physical gesture because he wasn't feeling his best. She offered such good hugs but part of him kicked himself for wanting to accept it. Being an assassin, he was accustomed to staying objective without emotions filtering through and he reminded her, "Focus on your job-"

"My boss loves that I've increased his revenue and brought new clients" she informed proudly and coughed to the side to ward the fishy smell from entering her lungs. Boy, was that smell overpowering. She leaned back on her elbows to smile towards the sparkling water on the horizon and explained easily, "I'm quite popular here and I could even help you get a better job with my new connections. It's bad enough being called 'the man with the terrible smell' by the townspeople."

"They don't call me that . . . do they?" he retorted shrewdly but his pride was poked on that because he didn't want to be known that way. Who would want to be identified by that? It was a horrible moniker. Her deadpan expression only secured his question with a positive confirmation. Altaïr grit his teeth to falling so far down the respect chain because he was a grand master, damn it, and told her, "I never thought I'd see the day when _you_ became the popular one."

"Actually, Malik is" she informed casually to dull the double strike and Altaïr uttered a shameful whimper at being the bottom of the three. Vivian had to blink twice to hearing the soft noise because it was fit for a person like her rather than an invulnerable assassin. His stay at Quelimane brought him no joy and despite her joking, she did worry he would return to his old demeanor in Lake Victoria. She tried to make light of the situation by explaining Malik's popularity, "The governing family likes him and he got a raise after making maps. You'd be surprised how charismatic he can be and that innocent charmer face of his knows how to pull the strings. Maybe I can wiggle my way in since the son likes adventuring and the daughter-"

"No more, you are a virtuous woman who will not ruin her reputation" he growled with annoyance because she was supposed to be herself- the kind and friendly woman he knew. He didn't want people eyeing her with lecherous or impure thoughts because she deserved better, even while playing a man. She was supposed to run to him for advice and be by his side for banter but instead, he was left to mope alone. He didn't want to be alone as he grew older and that realization led him to want to be at her side.

"I know, Zevran's the bad seed" she smirked innocently as she tried to loophole her way through it but he wasn't having any more Vivian/Zevran craziness. One Vivian was more than enough to handle and this new charade was double the work for him. He couldn't handle that!

"_You're_ Zevran, you sneaky temptress!" he exclaimed exasperatedly and Vivian shook her head to his propriety. He had transformed from a devil may care type to a strict by the book guy that she always found humorously fascinating. She kept the silly grin on her face as she watched the disgruntled assassin and pondered on a quick Zevran-esque scheme to quiet him. Altaïr waved his hands to the indignity of her behavior and ranted madly to knock sense into her, "You make a mockery-"

Yanking him by the front of his tunic, Vivian did the unthinkable and leaned forward to press her lips to his for a firm kiss. His body stiffened at the personal space intrusion because it had been the _last_ thing he expected from her. Vivian released him a second later before he could recover from his stunned stupor and confessed truthfully, "There. I've done more with you than any other person since I arrived in this time- good Gandalf, you smell."

With that said, she hastily escaped down the ladder just as Altaïr regained control of his body after blacking out from stimuli overload. After blending into his time, Vivian's cheeks burned with astonishment to her boldness and for loving every second of it. Who wouldn't want to kiss the assassin in a blind moment of giddiness and love it? Altaïr, on the other hand, had been stunned into silence like the eye of a hurricane before creating havoc. Her action had been one that shattered his impenetrable emotional fortress with its simple movement as it threw his feelings into disarray.

Clenching his fists, he wanted to kick sense into her and himself for letting her action affect him. Her lips had been as soft as he imagined since she dabbed oil or honey to prevent dryness and her bottom lip had innocently wedged between both of his before departing. There had been brief moments as of late that he wondered about the feel of her mauve lips against his but it was nothing serious. The light breeze tickled his damp lips in reminder to her bold action and he moved to wipe them clean, only to pause a second later. Why was he so deeply affected by her actions? Forcing himself to believe there was nothing behind the chaste kiss, he reminded himself that Maria was at Masyaf. With a child over there, there was a future awaiting him if she wished it. He should have been happy to have a family, right?

Then why did it feel as if he'd swallowed a lemon to that thought?

* * *

**A/N**: And so, we begin the tug-of-war romance between the two because the stay at Quelimane will be a memorable one. Vivian is loving her new undercover life in the port as she plays the humorous Zevran (for those who've played Dragon Age) while Altaïr is the polar opposite. Malik can finally enjoy a life being himself without the two needing him as a referee but he'll play brother bear when he noticed Altaïr chasing Vivian romantically.

Thank you for your support of this story and your reviews:

_david meyer ny_: Unfortunately, the end of the tale will be similar to how you described it but there's a sequel in store for the trio. I'm glad to know so many readers have gotten into the Altaïr/Vivian romance because it's been in the making for quite a long time and it's finally showing now. I'd love to see the two raise little Vivian's' and Altaïr's' to create mayhem in their wake after all we've seen the two do together (I love the brothel infiltration). Don't worry, we'll see a little Vivian or Altaïr eventually.

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: Yes, Malik's 'children' have finally managed to live apart from him having to separate them. In a few years, he'll be playing Uncle Malik to Altaïr's kids and blame the assassin for having to reprise his role.

_Elektraeriseros_: Thank you for loving this story ridiculously, I appreciate it! Connor does indeed resemble Altaïr the most with his quiet demeanor and I love him even more for his sweet naivety and helpful nature. Haytham is indeed a very sassy man and he definitely made me laugh during his interactions with Connor. Vivian will be returning to her time and eventually, learn of everything that has happened in the franchise (even if her poor heart is in the thresher). A little badger tells me that Altaïr will indeed know about him. Lol

_IsraAl'Attia-Theron_: Lol. A lot of people have wanted to smack altaor throughout the story but we've reached a point where the hands are slowly lowering. They might rise, however, towards Vivian when she tries to put her foot down on the attraction he feels for her. It'll be up to Altaïr to sort out how to clinch Vivian as his partner while simultaneously fixing the awkwardness that will follow with Maria (who is more concerned with Darim than anyone else).

_TheMystirousFuzz_: I'm glad you're so enthusiastic for them! Yes, the feelings just keep growing between the two and the array in this chapter with Altaïr is hilarious. Altaïr definitely tries his best with Vivian as they try to solve each other's problems and in the end, they have quite a good partnership that will only get better. The relationship the two are heading to will be a bit rocky but there will be no question to how dearly (or humorously adorable) they care for one another.

_KrnYong_: Yes, the romance is finally underway for the two after 30+ chapters. Lol. Altaïr is definitely not the type to be left out and when Vivian begins getting male attention in an upcoming chapter, he'll be awkward and overprotective to the max. Out of all of the protagonists, Altaïr is quite the stoic man but with a short fuse and his teachings under Al Mualim restrained his grasp on emotions. As he grew older after AC1, he learned to do so and I love incorporating that in the story as the years pass by with Vivian at his side. She'll be helping him sort through them all and I think the sweetest part of that 'therapy' is when she compliments his attractive appearance and loving the adventurous life full of memories he's given her (even if it's in extreme poverty and constant danger).

* * *

**Next Time**: _The Green Eyed Monster_

A week later brought the mark of their first month there and Malik earned a nice basket of fruit which meant free food for the trio. Vivian received a round of beers from grocer friends at an inn that would've given her liver instant cirrhosis had her friends not been there. As for Altaïr. . .well, he quit and was currently jobless. He had been putting it off for as long as he could but when a bucket of fish guts fell on him when he accidentally struck it while cleaning a boat- he lost it. It had been a great relief to bid goodbye to the docks but dread filled him when he'd returned to the inn to tell his friends. Malik had ranted for a good hour about him lacking commitment to the mission due to smelling horribly, not to mention losing money they needed. Altaïr had stomped away irritably to cool off before he said something he'd regret and swiped a pear from the gift basket.

Malik didn't object to having produce stolen and Vivian looked to him to state softly, "Don't be mad at him, Malik. He really tried his best but we both know he's not cut out for this kind of life."

"It was only for a short time, Vivian" he sighed with disbelief to Altaïr's impetuousness about quitting. If they didn't need the money so badly, he wouldn't be pressing his friend. Their journey was far from over and they had arrived poorer than poor because there were no more enemies to loot from.

Vivian offered an apologetic smile on behalf of the cranky assassin and informed, "I'll check on him."

Her Zevran getup had been shed for the night and she returned to the feminine robes to be herself. It was annoying having to go downstairs with a long skirt that could become tangled around her feet but she managed. There weren't many people down below in the dining area now that the late evening fell and she smiled at the owners as she passed by. Opening the door, the cool breeze of the sea greeted her nose and she looked around to see where Altaïr had gone off. Given that the inn was small, it didn't take long to walk the perimeter and she found him behind the building.

The rolling pastures that dipped to transform into the coast greeted her vision since Altaïr wasn't fond of staring at the ocean. He preferred the sight of land and the east provided that as he leaned against the wooden building. The lantern hanging above them provided a beam of light to illuminate his outline and she approached him. Vivian found herself surprised when she caught him smoking from a midwakh pipe and a thin trail of smoke left his lips.

_Aw, no, he's the Cigarette Smoking Man from the X-Files!_, she groaned miserably because practically everyone smoked in that era to the point her lungs shriveled. It was a recreational sport, particularly in the Middle East, and sea trading only spread the use. In other parts of the world that already smoked, merchants would trade materials to use in their particular pipes.

"You smoke? Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad _smokes_?!" she asked incredulously to what she was witnessing and resisted from ripping the pipe from his hand. She couldn't project her feelings on the matter because everyone was entitled to their lifestyle.

"Only when I'm _very_ irritated" he replied earnestly with a simple shrug and kept the pipe to his level so she wouldn't inhale anything. It helped to relieve stress and rather than leaving a smelly room in his wake, decided to head outside where it would be ten times calmer. He had traveled around the town after quitting to build his argument until it was suppertime but it hadn't gone over very well. He looked at the small brown pipe in his left hand and admitted simply, "It's very rare for me, unlike Malik, but I don't really know other forms to relax. There's not a Templar nearby to assassinate so I make do with this."

"Give me that" she fussed to keep his lungs squeaky clean and swiped the pipe from his hand. Altaïr didn't bother to protest her confiscation because he didn't feel very confident that night and simply gazed at her to await the next lecture. Vivian, however, wasn't going to make his night worse and merely studied the brown pipe in her hands. She'd never seen him use it during their journey and wondered what else remained a mystery. A thin trail of smoke escaped the end and her nose took the tiniest sniff as she asked, "What do you put in there? I'm pretty sure tobacco won't land here until later centuries."

"Hashish" he replied easily to one of the herbs that traveled around the trade routes and she quirked an eyebrow. Why did that sound familiar to her? Altaïr grabbed the pipe back from her dainty fingers to inhale again and explained, "I found some on one of the robbers back in Giza. Why let it go to waste, right?"

Vivian shook her head because she wasn't about to be the accomplice of the Smoky Man Fog. Her mind finally clicked onto why that word sounded familiar and she exclaimed, "You're getting _high_? Aw no! You're killing me!"

Altaïr watched her pace around like a chicken with its head cut off as she spouted about the fandom being broken at the news.

* * *

Thank you for reading about the trio's crazy adventure and please drop a review.


	40. The Green Eyed Monster

**Music Inspiration**: Inon Zur- _"The Party Camp"_ (I love the ambience of that piece for Vivian and Altair currently) and Two Steps From Hell- _"I Love You Forever"_

* * *

**The Green Eyed Monster  
**

* * *

A week later brought the mark of their first month in Quelimane and Malik earned a nice basket of fruit at work for his steadfast efficiency, which meant free food for the trio. Vivian received a round of beers from her grocer friends at an inn that would've given her liver instant cirrhosis had her friends not been there to drink as well. As for Altaïr. . .well, he quit and was currently jobless. He had been putting it off for as long as he could but when a bucket of fish guts fell on him when he accidentally struck it while cleaning a boat- he lost all of his remaining sanity. It had been a great relief to bid goodbye to the docks but dread filled him when he'd returned to the inn to tell his friends. Malik had ranted for a good hour about him lacking commitment to the mission due to simple body odor, not to mention losing money they sorely needed. Altaïr had stomped away irritably to cool off before he said something he'd regret and swiped a pear from the gift basket. There was no reason for him to starve after working that day, right?

Malik didn't object to having his produce stolen and Vivian looked to him to state softly, "Don't be mad at him, Malik. He really tried his best but we both know he's not cut out for this kind of life."

"It was only for a short time, Vivian" he sighed with disbelief to Altaïr's impetuousness about quitting because they'd had harder missions than impersonating travelers. If they didn't need the money so badly, he wouldn't be pressing his friend. Their journey was far from over and they had arrived poorer than poor because there were no more enemies to loot from.

Vivian offered an apologetic smile on behalf of the cranky assassin and informed, "I'll go check on him."

Her Zevran getup had been shed for the night and she returned to the feminine robes to be herself. It was annoying having to go downstairs with a long skirt that could become tangled around her feet but she managed to make it in one piece. There weren't many people down below in the dining area now that the late evening fell and she smiled at the old kind faced owners as she passed by. They were a petite old couple that practically spelled sweet grandparents running a bed and breakfast to her. Opening the door, the cool salty breeze of the sea greeted her nose and she looked around to see where Altaïr had gone off. Given that the inn was small, it didn't take long to walk the perimeter and she found him behind the building.

The rolling pastures that dipped to transform into the coast greeted her vision since Altaïr wasn't fond of staring at the ocean. He preferred the sight of sturdy immovable land and the east provided that as he leaned against the wooden building. Whenever they looked at the sea together, on a rare occasion, he kept his line of vision towards the sky or the sand- rarely on the sparkling water. The lantern hanging above them provided a beam of light to illuminate his outline and she approached him. Vivian found herself surprised when she caught him smoking from a midwakh pipe and a thin trail of smoke left his lips.

_Aw, no, he's the Cigarette Smoking Man from the X-Files!_, she groaned miserably because practically _everyone_ smoked in that era to the point that her pure untainted lungs shriveled. It was a recreational sport, particularly in the Middle East, and sea trading only spread the use. In other parts of the world that already smoked, merchants would trade materials to use in their particular pipes.

"You smoke? Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad _smokes_?!" she asked incredulously to what she was witnessing and resisted from ripping the pipe from his hand. She couldn't project her feelings on the matter because everyone was entitled to their lifestyle.

"Only when I'm _very_ irritated" he replied earnestly with a simple shrug and kept the pipe to his eye level so she wouldn't inhale anything. It helped to relieve stress and rather than leaving a smelly room in his wake, decided to head outside where it would be ten times calmer. He had traveled around the town after quitting to build his argument until it was suppertime but it hadn't gone over very well. He looked at the small brown pipe in his left hand and admitted simply, "It's very rare for me, unlike Malik, but I don't really know other forms to relax. There's not a Templar nearby to assassinate so I make do with this."

"Give me that" she fussed to keep his lungs squeaky clean and swiped the pipe from his hand. Altaïr didn't bother to protest her confiscation because he didn't feel very confident that night and simply gazed at her to await the next lecture. Vivian, however, wasn't going to make his night worse and merely studied the brown pipe in her hands. She'd never seen him use it during their journey and wondered what else remained a mystery. A thin trail of smoke escaped the end and her nose took the tiniest sniff as she asked, "What do you put in there? I'm pretty sure tobacco won't land here until later centuries."

"Hashish" he replied easily to one of the herbs that traveled around the trade routes and she quirked an eyebrow. Why did that sound familiar to her? Hmm, her brain was immediately trying to crack the nut on that one. Altaïr grabbed the pipe back from her dainty fingers to inhale again and explained, "I found some on one of the robbers back in Giza. Why let it go to waste, right?"

Vivian shook her head because she wasn't about to be the accomplice of the Smoky Man Fog. Her mind finally clicked onto why that word sounded familiar and she exclaimed, "You're getting _high_? Aw no! You're killing me!"

Altaïr watched her pace around like a chicken with its head cut off as she spouted about the fandom being broken at the news. When he had enough of her frantic circling, he emptied the pipe and stepped on the contents with his boot to end his therapeutic session. He grabbed her by the shoulders to halt her fretting and pressed her back against his chest to ask, "Are you going to lecture me again?"

"No, I understand why you quit" she answered gently as she relaxed now that she wouldn't have an assassin with a sharp acuity with questions about life or ridiculous hunger pangs. His hold loosened and it allowed her to turn around to face him with a kind smile. She wasn't in Malik's boat when it came to his quitting because he wasn't happy and in the end, it was what she wanted for him. He didn't have to look far to find understanding and she admitted easily, "I know what it's like to live a life that's not meant for you, regardless of how much you try to fit into that role. You don't need to explain it to me because I could see how miserable you were."

She didn't know how much he appreciated hearing those words after trying to garner sympathy from Malik. It's not that he didn't want to work but it was hard adapting into that civilian life and the position required of him had been far from ideal. He felt the strongest sensation aching to burst from his chest at the relief of knowing she wasn't going to chastise him about the brotherhood and their rules. Vivian . . . she was simply being Vivian.

"Life throws us many curveballs but we can't quit either" she advised carefully with a small smile because they were both in the same boat. While she was lost centuries from her own time, he was a long way from home in Masyaf as well. His lips thinned into a tiny frown because he was fond of fussing to relieve his stress but she gave him a knowing 'don't you complain' look. His face smoothed with a noncommittal grunt now that she knew his tells rather well and she stated simply, "We're not the type of people who call it a day when things get tough. At this moment, you feel restrained against your will because you're stuck here until the weather clears. Thankfully, for you, there is an escape at the end of the grueling tunnel but I don't have that."

Is that what she felt since her arrival? Altaïr was already being driven insane after a month but Vivian bore the time shift for over a year without a nervous breakdown. He admired that strong willpower because a weaker woman would've succumbed to the isolation in the wilderness, not to mention the lack of loved ones beside them. She was a simple civilian but the grace she used when calming him down was one he hadn't encountered in quite a while. Al Mualim had usually nipped his sass in the bud without a word, Malik tended to snap at him, while Maria had pinched his side to quiet him.

Vivian merely smiled with encouragement to soothe away all of his worries and advised, "Take a day to relax and ponder about your next steps. You will need a job so spend the time perusing through town to find one on your own without our intervention. If you need to talk- or most likely, prefer the silence- come find me and we'll find a quiet place to get away from the world. Life isn't easy but there comes a time when we need to breathe for ourselves before we suffocate from the weight on our shoulders. I'm here for you, Altaïr, for better or worse."

He couldn't help himself and without thinking, he embraced her tightly by the shoulders as the words hit home. It was pure freedom for him to hold someone that understood his predicament and he basked in that sympathetic care. How could one time traveler match that same uncertainty he felt to perfection? It was preposterous to believe and he was inclined to accept that her appearance in his world was meant for a reason. Things like time travel were unheard of- _impossible!_- yet science somehow brought her to him on that hot summer in Jerusalem.

Vivian returned his gesture and smiled when one hand brushed back strands of hair with surprising gentleness. It was a breach in personal space that had never happened and she thinned her lips to prevent a sappy smile from rising to his touch. Although his fingers were the consistency of sandpaper after years of climbing, the friction was wonderful to her sensory receptors. Thankfully, his voice blocked her melting fangirl screaming inside when he whispered against her left shoulder, "You are the first to understand me and bear with my behavior without abandoning me. Any other woman would've called me a fool and left by now but you remain at my side. Just as you offer me aid, you must come to me when you feel defeated- never hide it. I will always help you too, Vivian."

He exhaled with a lighter weight on his shoulders as she clung to him and Altaïr admitted earnestly, "Thank you for seeking me here."

"There was never a question in my mind" she replied kindly as she embraced him tightly to repay the trust and safety he'd given her. He had provided her with the basics to survive and a friendship worthy of a novel when she returned home. On top of that, she managed to help him become a better man and that was the best reward in her book.

After that night, Altaïr sold his pipe and never smoked again.

* * *

The following day brought them to a nice outing on the beach to test Vivian's first invention to use for fun. She'd been teaching Malik how to build a kite during their days off work since Altaïr saw no point in games and only partook in hobbies relating to survival. The late morning was the perfect time to spend a day on the shore when everybody was working in town while the trio was free. The dai was currently trying to fly the kite with the ocean's breeze while Vivian instructed him how to maneuver it. Altaïr, meanwhile, laid face down on a blanket with his elbows propped against it and watched hermit crabs burrowing in the sand with mild interest. They were tiny little things but they were living their own life just as he was.

"You can't expect Vivian and me to work alone for the next month" Malik lectured their friend as he tried to catch an air current while running back and forth. The whole fiasco about quitting hadn't blown over from yesterday but Malik had calmed to the point that he resorted to lectures. Altaïr, frankly, merely nodded and allowed it to go in one ear and out the other. They kept their conversations subtle since they were in public but Altaïr's glare power carried over an ocean with his temper. Unlike the general population, Malik wasn't transformed into a quivering ball under his gaze and stated firmly, "I don't care if you have to crawl back for your job but you need to find one quickly."

"I refuse to smell like something a dog threw up" he snapped irately with a hiss fit for a cat and Vivian muffled a snicker to his exaggeration. The smell was more like a rotting egg smell while the fish itself was detectable up close- scrumptious when it was eaten.

Malik frowned to his antics because if things didn't go his way, Altaïr would protest until he was given free reign. He was accustomed to getting his way after being the best and he would not relinquish his joy at quitting a cheerless job. The dai, unfortunately, wasn't the spoiling type and scolded his impetuousness, "You make Al Mualim sound sane with the things you spout."

"He never had to smell hideously like I did" he shot back sourly and poked holes in the sand to let out his aggression about having to quit. He failed to remember that hermit crabs burrowed underground and sticking your finger into their home practically spelled invasion. The little crab hiding under the sand didn't hesitate to defend its home when the soft appendage descended onto it.

_"Ow!"_

Altaïr flailed his left hand away from the sand as a hermit crab hopped along for the ride. The little crab clung on to defend its invaded burrow and that marked another of Earth's animals that attacked him- number 34, if Vivian was correct. At this point in the journey, he could live without seeing wildlife for the next five years after his experiences. He stood upright to shake the critter off before it snapped a bone and roared at the two with outrage, "Help me, you useless stumps!"

They blatantly ignored the dramatic assassin as he ran in circles to separate the crab from his hand. He already had four fingers on his left hand and didn't want to lose another because of a furious crustacean. Vivian didn't know whether to sigh in dismay or bury her head in her hands because the man was running like the crab was chasing him with a weapon. How was _running_ going to stop a tiny crab? Malik lent a hand by handing the kite to Vivian and approached the assassin to put an end to it. Altaïr was more than ready to demand he rip off the crab but the dai pushed him into the incoming tide to silence him. Also, it would allow the poor crab some peace of mind to escape.

A few seconds passed before the assassin resurfaced from the foamy waves as he coughed out water. To Vivian, he resembled the Monster from the Black Lagoon when seaweed managed to cling onto his shoulders as he thrashed around as if burned. She couldn't imagine anything more hilarious than this! He was drenched completely since the push hadn't been a light one and Altaïr declared furiously, "We are _never_ undertaking a journey together again!"

Vivian shook her head to his yelling as she tried to make her diamond shaped kite glide into the sky and sighed, "He's PMS-ing worse than me."

"Vivian" Malik groaned to that eerie female process but the expression shifted when their kite took flight in her hands. He quickly rejoined her to steady it as the red diamond with a hilariously drawn assassin chibi giving a thumb's up faced them and took to the sky. Together, they ran down the shoreline to make sure it wouldn't fall back down as their first invention succeeded and forgot all about the cranky assassin. Kite flying provided Vivian a link to her old life and sharing it with her new friends felt wonderful. Altaïr glared at them as he used a nearby towel to dry his face but enjoyed the pretty color of the odd contraption.

He had to admit Vivian had some creative ideas to bridge the distance between their eras. That slingshot she helped him make made her the first victim (oh, the irony) but it worked splendidly. Now, he just used it to shoot pebbles into the water to bide his free time. He wrung seawater out of his clothes and sighed under his breath at how long it would take for them to dry.

When Malik had the kite steady on his own, Vivian released his hand to beckon their grumpy assassin. She found him drying his skin underneath the wet tunic with a towel and his irritated look reminded her of a wet cat. His eyes only served to fuel that image as they penetrated deep into hers and she tried to coax him, "Come on, Altaïr. It's a fun invention and I promise you'll like it a little."

His face remained impassive as he maintained his dignity but left the area before the crab returned for vengeance. His feet gained sand shoes as he walked up to the dai in soaked clothing to demand the kite for his callous shove. Vivian chuckled behind him to the fussy tone and Altaïr blinked when she wrapped her own towel around his shoulders. She patted him on the back in one last effort to calm him but the gesture was enough to leave his heart a warm syrupy mess. Why couldn't she just knock him over the head instead? It would've lowered her appeal and reminded him she was his witty little friend rather than a smart petite woman whose hidden curves were beginning to pop up in his mind.

Malik cheered up his friend by letting him learn to control the kite and for the first time, Altaïr felt the giddiness of a child as he controlled the flimsy object in the sky. How could something so flat fly in the sky? Objects weren't made to fly in his time but if this was how it felt, he could see why Vivian enjoyed the future where machines took to the sky to travel. Why, it was simply delightful! It was a shame that he would be long gone before that time came to be but maybe the Apple or Ankh would allow him a glimpse before he returned to the earth. Would it be a long wait before kites were flown all along the world by people of all ages? Or would he be the lucky one to experience it firsthand?

His renewed childhood was an interesting sight to behold for Vivian after trying to catch a glimpse of a common man. Altaïr had admitted to her once that he always wondered how he would be if given the chance but Quelimane brought out the worst of that persona. Instead of being a blacksmith or farmer, he had received the most unpleasant job suitable for him and it had hampered that experience. The kite, however, brought forth the inner child that had never flourished in him as he was taught to be an efficient killing machine. For the first time, she saw a normal man experiencing innocent fun as he controlled the gliding kite. It came to a point that when children asked to use it out of sheer curiosity, he scared them off by claiming, "I was here first. Go away."

Well, she saw what kind of child he would've been now.

Of course, Malik allowed the youngsters to enjoy their handmade creation by ripping it out of his hands. Like a child renewed, Altaïr left to sulk on a nearby boulder until it was his turn again because they all had to share. The new Altaïr would abide to those terms but the child's spark burning within him demanded otherwise. Had time really gone that fast? He felt like he'd only played- uh, controlled- it for a few minutes. Vivian joined him with a sweet cream creation from goat's milk that he eyed with both intrigue and hunger since he'd become comfortable with having meals available. It felt wonderful not having to hunt every day for food and the squishy dessert sprinkled with fruit appeared tasty. She raised the bowl with a giddy smile and poked the dessert with a wooden spoon to jiggle it, "A gift from Zevran's admirers. I've never had a character be so loved."

He groaned miserably to the blasted name and she chuckled to the grumpy mood he was always in. She held out her spoon so he could have a taste (while hoping to lift his spirits) and he cringed with wariness, "Your spit is on that."

"If I remember correctly, you sent lake water with yours into mine" she stated sarcastically and he grumbled under his breath because she was correct. There wasn't any more dignity he could lose after having her lips on his while unconscious and then again by surprise. She grinned with delighted surprise when he took a bite from the snack, calling it progress. Altaïr had never done such a thing but it brought delight to his inexperienced heart as he spent a normal day at the port. What other assassin could say they were sitting on the beach and eating a dessert without a care in the world? Well, maybe one care or two. He tried not to smile when she preened about the sweet taste of the smooth cream, "Good, right?"

"You can't keep accepting things because people will expect something in return" he lectured snippily but took another large bite from her snack, causing her to smirk. He was such a stickler with admitting anything remotely related to the emotion called happiness that it made her chuckle. It didn't matter as long as she brought a little joy to his hectic life.

"Not if you outsmart them" she justified wittily and brushed her shoulder against his. He shook his head to her logic and she poked the top of his free hand with hers as it lay on the boulder. His fast reflexes caused her to groan miserably when he trapped it underneath his to cease her movement. She stilled to become free but her cheeks warmed when seconds passed and her hand remained pinned under his. He was the number one protester against touching, telling her the futuristic ways were evil and . . . he was holding her hand, wasn't he? She didn't know whether to groan miserably or crush her cheering fangirl into paste.

His behavior was subtly shifting to a field where she didn't feel comfortable, not for herself, but for him and his future path. He'd never betrayed anything more than friendship with his face but his recent actions . . . sometimes, she wondered if something dwelled there. Altaïr was such a private person and to be privy to his life was an honor that Vivian held dear. At the same time, that trust only brought to question whether he was tempted to blur and cross the line of friendship because that wasn't a possibility. There was someone meant to walk the path of life with him in the history books and Vivian was not looking to piss her off.

He made no mention of anything as he took another bite from her treat and stated simply, "Zevran is playing a dangerous game."

She shook her head to his fretting because her disguise was playing over rather well in town and teased, "See? This is why you're not in Zevran's inner circle-"

"Vivian, I swear-" he sighed with disgruntlement to Zevran because he embodied everything Vivian _shouldn't_ be. Why couldn't Zevran be a normal sensible man that didn't draw attention to himself? One who wasn't flipping society's norms upside down and possibly making silent enemies along the way? Didn't she know he worried about her every time she left the inn?

"Relax a little, you're always so formal and stiff" she suggested gently since he failed to budge from his core personality in Quelimane. It was like poking a stubborn clam to open and although Vivian kept coaxing him, that big clam only tightened further. She wanted the stress to leave him for at least a day since he never experienced true relaxation after always being on guard.

"Or what? You'll kiss me again?" he teased with an amused snort to her bold ways and watched the tips of her ears redden. Hmm, she always was more open and outrageous in private. That unexpected moment had remained stuck in his head since it occurred and the idea of repeating it didn't repulse him. The bashful hue on her ears was a rare sight to see and he leaned over to whisper against her hot ear, "I won't be caught unaware this time."

Oh, he was good.

"Zara, you green eyed beauty" a voice interrupted them and Vivian turned to see one of the eligible bachelors of the port that worked in the small market area. The young man was of Arabic descent due to the continuous trade between port towns along the Indian Ocean and worked with raising livestock. Altaïr's hand retreated from hers immediately like water on oil and she took notice of that, clear that it hadn't been an accident or temporary nerve damage. It was a rarity for her to receive attention since she hid from it due to her origins and couldn't see herself developing anything in that world without causing emotional turmoil. It was better to ward oneself than lose that power if one became emotionally involved.

The only person she'd drawn a schoolgirl heart over was Altaïr but his path was carved so it was both a relief and a pain. She had fallen into the growing pile of Altaïr lovers and worshippers- this time in the former category. Goodness, she could still feel the rough callouses of his hand and the warmth of it on hers. It was an electric touch that she'd felt with no other and left her heart a pile of sweet goo for being so lucky to experience it. He was the kind of man she'd follow into hell and back, one to love wholeheartedly without fear, and the one who protected her against all the dangers that the world threw at them. Unfortunately, she'd have to nip any further actions in the bud before she gave him the wrong impression.

For the first time, Vivian found herself on the receiving end of attraction and felt flattered like many modern women did during the dating scene of the single life. She'd been a bookworm for much of her life and most of her dates consisted visiting a museum, relaxing in a coffee shop, or seeing a film at night in a public park showing. Her focus on school hadn't given much opportunity for a romance life and her life alongside Altaïr for the past year (and a few months) removed that possibility. She smiled towards the man that she'd often talked to as Zevran regarding animals and greeted, "Fancy seeing you here. Zevran is wandering the docks-"

"I was hoping to find you, actually" he interjected with a pleasant smile and Altaïr's assassin sense blared to DEFCON 1 that single action. He decided to watch this man for no other reason than talking to her and eyed him like a suspicious mother cheetah. Vivian handed Altaïr her cream dessert to keep him occupied before he scared off the friendly man. His appearance reminded her of the amicable inventor Bashir and he knocked her socks off when he offered, "I was wondering if I could walk you home after you finished your day on the beach."

And so, dating decorum began.

Vivian stuttered to find words and Altaïr smiled evilly to himself as he waited for her to shoo away the first man to show interest. Wait, why was he cheering for downfall? He found his answer within jealousy but what could this man offer that he couldn't? Besides, she was a part of his team and therefore, a part of him. Yes, _that_ was the answer he'd stick with. It wasn't envy but defense at having someone intrude on his territory! It wasn't about Vivian's familiar face or sappy uncomfortable feelings that he fought to ignore at all! A moment later, however, he balked with surprise and almost choked on the dessert when she smiled in agreement, "Sure. I will finish with my friends in the next hour."

Altaïr hoped that was the last he'd see of the man but it was only the start.

The next week had Malik serving their dinner meal solo in the dining room of the small inn. Vivian was out on the town as herself for the evening and was due to return soon so he'd let her roam freely. Malik didn't mind having his cooking partner absent since the inn had everything he needed and could go buy a few things if they were missing. The dai frowned, however, to the many ink bottles sprawled across the table as he looked for empty places to set the plates down and chastised, "Altaïr, I do wish you'd rid yourself of this habit of leaving ink bottles everywhere."

"You wanted me to get a job and I got one" the other man grumbled back because he had finally earned a decent job by making signs to post throughout town- ranging from many things. He'd made signs for stores, lost livestock, road conditions, town news, and other stuff. He'd gone straight into Malik's workplace and demanded a job as he listed every skill to the nearest administrator that would listen to him. Malik had been mortified to see him chasing down people and sent him to jot down a flyer to post on a board outside the building. His agility and calligraphy won him a job as a freelance poster boy and despite it sounded stupid to everybody else, he preferred it to fish gutter.

He finished writing in his travel journal while the work materials for tomorrow cluttered the table. Flat wooden panes lay in stacks with neat calligraphy written on them since he would post them throughout town starting in the morning. Altaïr grabbed the bottles to align them neatly on the left side as he cleaned the table to allow Malik to place food onto it. He wasn't about to miss out on a meal for being disorganized but time tended to slip by him now that he had a decent job. For once, he was quite content about his work and Malik commented with a smile, "Well, you are in a better mood now so I won't nag."

"Where's Vivian? She's home by now" Altaïr asked as he bit into a freshly made roll of bread, savoring the sweet taste as the cozy inn gave him nostalgia for home. Masyaf always had an endless bread supply that left him sated and he wondered how his little son was faring. Was he well? Did he know how much he wanted to see and hold him? To know his name? He wished he could speed through the journey before he began to talk or walk so he could share those milestones. The longer he was stuck at port, the less he'd get to see his son as an infant and it was unacceptable.

At the same time, the faster he tried to push his mission, the faster he would be rid of Vivian in his life. He wasn't ready to give up their daily chats or her horrible yet catchy tunes for the silence of the land. She'd brought out qualities in himself that he'd never thought existed and wanted to become a better man for everyone. He'd become quite protective of Vivian and it didn't hit him until they lived in Quelimane to realize that. If he didn't know where she was or didn't see her every hour, he became agitated until he found her. He eyed the closed doorway with a keen eye as his fingertips tapped against the table impatiently and proposed hastily, "Vivian's not here. Should I go look for her? I'll go look for her-"

Malik handed Altaïr a plate full of hot food that was too deliciously aromatic to ignore and informed calmly, "She's with that boy from the market- now sit down."

Altaïr ripped into the bread with a feral growl at knowing she was in another man's company and Malik mistook it for distrust. The assassin would've run out the door to bring her home if he wasn't starving but Malik assured, "She needs a little happiness in her life, Altaïr. I'm sure that after traveling with us for over a year, she has grown bored of our constant company. We humans are social creatures, after all."

"The man's an outsider and she's one of us" he grumbled as he ate quietly, not enthusiastic at all at knowing Vivian was outside without him in her company. Why was she with the man in the first place? What was so special about him that he couldn't offer? Wasn't he enough company for her? She'd continuously stated that men in his time weren't her fancy and her circumstance led her to avoid them. What had changed? Why was her eye daring to wander in the first place? He practically shredded the poor hen meat in his hands with his teeth and declared, "We aren't here permanently so she cannot tie herself to anyone. What is she thinking by spending time with that man?"

"Let her be, Altaïr" Malik advised wisely because Vivian was old enough to make her own decisions. They were in a safe town so he didn't worry about her safety since he and Altaïr taught her defense skills. She was a strong woman in her own right and her innocent physical appearance handed her that advantage. Vivian was no longer his defenseless unofficial sister, especially after she incapacitated Altaïr by the arm while he reclaimed stolen socks from him, and stated confidently, "She can protect herself. I've seen her knock a man down by kicking him between the legs and that was before learning to fight with a weapon."

The assassin swallowed his bite of food, the taste gone from it, and remarked sardonically, "Of course, you know her better than I do."

"You can't deny that you've haven't made it easy with your paranoia" Malik pointed out casually because she'd been his prisoner, an unwanted tagalong, his information well, and a companion up to this point. If anything, Altaïr should've been jealous of Malik but he only felt brotherly envy to their close trust rather than the jealousy of a scorned suitor. No, a friend! He had to clear his mind from the fact Vivian was intruding more into his heart than usual and stabbed his vegetables with his fork. Womankind was a mystery to him and Altaïr became more confused with his fluctuating emotions. Malik snapped him out of his ponderings about her as he reminded, "You didn't try to learn more until I brought it up back in Lake Victoria. It's a good thing you two patched up your issues because my life has never been better."

He couldn't disagree with that because he'd broken his personal space rule for Vivian and wouldn't think twice about it again. Her body molded perfectly against his and her smile brightened his currently dull world whenever she sought him to see if he was well. Now, there was somebody threatening to weave in his dominant spot and Altaïr had never been the type to share.

"Close your mouth, you're not a child" Malik scolded as he watched his friend's mouth stay parted for more than five seconds and snapped his fingers. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was bad mannerisms and Altaïr snorted before obeying.

* * *

The master assassin finally immersed himself in a quiet peaceful life that felt entirely surreal from his real life of tracking enemies. He performed his new job splendidly without any complaints and actually _enjoyed_ waking up each morning to ready his work satchel. On one occasion, he'd woken early to make breakfast for his friends and left for work with a happy kick in his steps. It was the first time that he tasted what a civilian life would've been like had he not been born into the order of assassins. The rare gift was one he would appreciate for the rest of his life because not many walked away from their brotherhood. There had been times that he questioned whether he was the right man to lead his brethren but hearing Vivian talk about the future . . . it cemented his commitment. He had always been the type to make sacrifices and the brotherhood flowed through his very veins so he would not disappoint them.

He watched the ocean after his shift as storm clouds kept brewing on the horizon with a thunderous shatter that followed by evening. It was a sign that cyclones were present over the land called Madagascar and the path remained hazardous to travel by boat. Malik would sit with him on certain days as they mulled over their true lives filled with danger and counted themselves lucky men for witnessing what a civilian life could've brought them. Altaïr didn't know what memories his future descendant would see but if he could pick one, the idyllic peace of Quelimane would be it before the shitstorm broke loose and danger reared its ugly head.

He knew he was growing wiser when he helped chop wood for the old lady at the inn, who was grateful enough that she deducted a small percentage off their stay. Without needing to be asked, he cleaned debris sticking to the palm leaf roof that could pool water during the rainy nights and ruin the wooden foundation. He also pulled weeds that kept scratching his feet when he walked barefoot over the small field and finally cleaned his eating table rather than leaving it cluttered. Oh, and fed the clucking hens in the back- mostly because Vivian liked playing with the baby chicks. He visited the beach to keep his skills honed as he listened to the crashing waves to calm his sea sickness and increase his meditation. There was a cave up north where he traveled to during dawn to isolate himself from the world and learn from the pieces, which allowed him to begin the creation of new assassination techniques. Vivian couldn't have been prouder when he returned with an idea to begin creating a hidden blade that wouldn't require a finger to be chopped off (it would only raise the risk of a systemic infection). When she admitted that it was one of his future inventions, it fueled him to begin formulating possibilities by hand to follow his rightful road.

The small port in the middle of nowhere granted him a lot in self-fulfillment despite his initial distaste for it. He had not seen Vivian for two weeks after he unknowingly insulted her by lecturing her she was leading that 'market boy' as he called him towards something she couldn't give. She wasn't of his time and more importantly, he didn't feel comfortable seeing Vivian courting anyone- it stirred something incredibly painful inside his heart. He'd done the only thing he could when he wanted answers: head to the source. The only problem was that his inexperience with women had him putting a foot in his mouth.

And so, his blunder of an encounter went a little like this:

He cornered Vivian minutes before one of her upcoming outings around the village with her 'suitor' where she wandered to buy cheap trinkets. They were simple creations in his mind but she loved collecting artisan works from places they visited. It didn't help him any that the man- Abu, Babu, Apu, something or other- knew every shop in Quelimane. Altaïr had chucked an apple through his window when the man gave it to him a few days ago as a friendly gift. He had accepted it with forced thanks downstairs but his face was full of glee from his room when a horse happened upon it and ate it. It's not like apples were magically special, right? Vivian had gasped in surprise to his quiet sneaking, pressing a hand to her chest and chastised, "You're going to send me to the doctor one of these days."

Her hair had grown to a feminine length past her shoulders and the delicate braid over one had his fingers itching for a curious touch. The dab of scented oil on her lips gave them a healthy sheen that drew his eyes over her face. When had she ever tried to appear this polished in his presence? For that matter, when had her feminine appearance begun to affect him so? Her gray robes were simple and neutral but the color looked beautiful against her skin, especially when he gazed into her emerald eyes. She was subtle and natural with her beauty, taking notice of that for the very first time. Because of that, it frustrated him to know she was doing all of this for a man that had done nothing in her life nor shared what they had.

"Stop courting him, don't give him illusions of something you can't give" he stated imperiously to cut the nonsense she was playing with because she couldn't find anyone in his time. She'd told him so herself and he would do his best to ensure it. He denied jealousy having anything to do with it and reasoned his protectiveness with team integrity. She furrowed her brow with confusion to the random comment and he pressed her further, "You aren't from here and wasting his time will only hurt the man in the end. If you want fun, go cut some flowers or fish. Here, I'll take you myself."

Before he had the chance to steal her away for himself, she shook her head and raised her hand to avoid being pulled elsewhere.

"I know what I'm doing and. . .well, I'd like temporary happiness myself after everything I've endured" she admitted honestly with a bashful smile and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. Women had rarely touched him due to his work and society's norms but Vivian had always been open with her friendliness. It was a reason he found himself craving that physical comfort from her alone and she fit his profile when it came to complete trust. Damn it, why did he eat her delicious food and talk about every subject known to man? It just made everything worse! That smiling face with a full set of white teeth and twinkling green eyes didn't help either! Where was a ferocious badger when he needed to yank it out of its burrow and have it scratch his face to forget her?

Altaïr was ready to counter that opinion and questioned firmly, "Aren't you happy with us? With me? What does he give you that _I_ can't provide?"

"Nothing, why . . . where is this coming from?" she asked with bewilderment since his expression was downright demanding and annoyed with her actions. When had her outings bothered him? He'd never said otherwise until now! It surprised her after encountering a calmer side of him now that he had a better job. What had changed? She decided not to grasp his shoulders out of worry she'd exacerbate the situation and reassured, "I've always been happy at your side, you know that. Did I offend you somehow?"

"No, it's- I don't want you seeing that man and that is that" he ordered matter-of-factly to bring the matter to an end since Vivian never hesitated to listen to him. He crossed his arms to expect her agreement as he laid down the law and nipped her outing in the bud. Instead, he faced an obstinate woman that wasn't about to be forced into something against her will. Hmm, he'd forgotten a feisty badger dwelled underneath the happy bunny currently in control. His taller height helped tremendously to maintain the dominant role and he stated firmly, "You belong with us in this inn and that's where you should be after work is finished."

"You're not my father or husband, you have no right to dictate my life" she stated crisply because everything had been fine with her life in Quelimane until that point. Why was he against her spending time outside the inn? Didn't he trust her to make safe choices in her life? She knew Altaïr carried a short temper and thanked the stars that she had the patience to state evenly, "I respect you, Altaïr, but this is my private life-"

"You never wanted one, especially with a man not of your time" he shot back to her reasoning whenever they traveled and how she sprung a woman upon Malik. She had never shown an interest to have a temporary fling or court a suitor until this ridiculous man showed up. Wasn't it enough that she admired him? He didn't want to be squeezed out of her life without a say and handed her an ultimatum, "It's either him or us-"

"You can't force me to make a choice like that" she gasped to the ludicrous choice because she looked forward to visiting the small farmland at the outskirts where animals roamed freely. Those weren't things she could do with Altaïr since he was the big bad assassin that would've looked bored out of his mind while she petted a braying goat. He was more liable to scare or battle wildlife (and livestock) which is why she never asked him to take walks with her to the livestock pens in the outskirts. She threw up her hands to his behavior as she sighed to the craziness of it all and spoke freely about it, "I- How . . . I'd smack you over the head with my shoe if we were in private."

Her posture stiffened when he invaded her personal space and her back pressed against the wall instinctively. Her breath paused when only an inch of space prevented their noses from touching and his piercing gaze met her surprised eyes. What had stirred this reaction from him? Her mind was still at a loss at what to grasp for an answer! His low voice, however, sent a shiver down her spine when he stated silkily, "There is nobody here, Vivian, and we are in the most private place in this port."

Vivian's cheeks flushed to the timbre in his voice because it was enough to send a hundred old fashioned skirts his way. This was the first time she'd had him in such a close distance that she could see the fine hairs on his chin and the small pores on his cheekbones as her gaze flicked elsewhere. Anywhere! His eyes carried such a mysterious magnetism whenever she managed to gaze at him and the golden flecks surrounding his pupil only added to his appeal. Sane people would've been quivering under the tall man because he enveloped her form under his without even trying and she faltered, "I- What's wrong? Talk to me."

"You are choosing him over us" he stated briskly because he wasn't fond of seeing her run off with another man and it unnerved him. It snapped something inside him that wanted to keep her in his vicinity and her attention solely on him. He wanted to be the one her attention was focused on and he wanted to know why that was. Was it truly attraction? Or was it simple protectiveness? He hoped to draw an answer from her for his own frustrations as he demanded, "What can he offer that I can't? He could never protect you-"

"A life without danger and I don't need to be protected right now" she interjected since she'd been growing in her own right throughout their travels and could take down an unarmed man. To Altaïr, it was a hurtful stab in the heart because that was the one thing he could never give anyone despite his best of intentions. His life never spelled safety and he realized it was foolish to think anyone would want to share that kind of life with him. Vivian caught the deep furrow of his brow as his eyes narrowed and he broke his gaze away from hers immediately afterwards.

Oh no, she'd struck a chord hadn't she? She'd tried her best to avoid any arguments with him since they'd reached such a great camaraderie and didn't want to change it. She regretted her choice of words because she wouldn't be standing there alive without him and apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way-"

"Go to him and live out a life of servitude as a wife" he snapped frigidly to hide his hurt feelings and she gaped to his indifferent tone. She'd never heard him sound so detached but their conversation had turned down an unexpected road. She didn't prize anyone higher than another but nobody would take his or Malik's place in her life- they were her dearest friends. Her hands touched the center of his chest to ask what was the origin of this dislike but he backed away to snap curtly, "Don't expect me to be there waiting with a handkerchief when it blows up in your face-"

"Vivian, you have a guest" Malik's voice called from below the stairwell and she broke her gaze away from Altaïr's. He demanded that she leave him down there but she left him standing in the corridor as she headed downstairs without a glance back. Her heart was entirely conflicted at their tense interaction but leaving would yield the same result as staying and exacerbating it further.

Everything had gone horribly wrong for Altaïr. . . and women remained a confounding riddle to him.

An angry stomp off to wash his laundry and a Malik lecture later, Vivian forgave Altaïr's crazy demands as she saw the truth. Well, that and seeing small flowers shoved under her doorway that had become completely crumpled through the tiny opening. He was so awful at apologizing that she couldn't help but accept his crumpled token. Vivian had never been one to acknowledge when a man was interested in her but Malik saw it quite clearly. The young man's presence around Vivian irritated Altaïr to levels he'd never encountered but when she ended everything, she was back at his side like glue. Of course, his temperament returned to one that matched another suitor at winning his desired partner. Malik decided to let the two stew in that pot because Altaïr never offered a reason to his behavior but if he did . . . well, he'd be the older brother that he always was.

Vivian's own words required an apology she'd imposed on herself and she'd sewn him a new tunic to atone for it. Altaïr accepted it because he cared for her too much to deny her gift but her words about safety lingered. How could they not when he glanced over his shoulder every hour in Quelimane (compared to every two minutes in cities)? He'd give her anything her heart desired but it wasn't in his power to give her even the most basic needs. He couldn't even offer a decent roof over her head half the time they were heading to a settlement and often ruminated about it in his quarters. These were questions that had never surfaced during his time in Maria's company but Vivian surpassed that time frame as she followed him loyally to the end of her journey.

The third week before their leave, he was posting a sign over Vivian's workplace after the owner hired him on a commission. His calligraphy style had become popular among the sellers after seeing his work around the port and he didn't need to wait long before someone needed his services. He was more than happy to help with crafting his own signs since his weapons were handy for woodworking and his drawing hand only improved with time.

"Ah, the fisherman turned poster boy" Vivian's 'Zevran' voice teased as she entered the side of the shop with a new batch of vegetables in her arms. Their stock decreased after the morning sells so Vivian had been tasked with bringing new produce from the back of the owner's house. After adventuring with her companions, she could lift up to forty pounds of weight so she managed in the shop.

Altaïr poked his head in from underneath the sign he was nailing down and met the mischievous gaze of Zevran. Her getup always managed to lower his physical attraction to Vivian and her masculine voice only added another nail to that coffin. Nonetheless, he was happy to find her there and stated matter-of-factly, "No, a fisherman has honor in boating around the sea rather than sitting on a dock all day and stabbing the guts out of fish."

"Forgive me, then" she chuckled as she kept her charade since the store owner was nearby inside their home. If she slipped even the slightest in her disguise, it would send the town in an uproar because times were not kind to those that weren't heterosexual or hid their true gender.

Moving to refill the display crates of their varied selection, Vivian stood inside the store to avoid having Altaïr stepping on her. He peered at the petite woman as her head bobbed while picking up ripe vegetables to arrange in each wooden crate. Being a bookworm, he hadn't expected her to be a woman that could bear physical labor but he was wrong after watching her load and unload produce, not to mention keep it fresh. Whenever people passed by, she offered an enthusiastic sales pitch to draw new customers as she held up a crisp pear or yam as evidence. When she wasn't dramatizing the store's reputation, Altaïr stopped nailing down the sign and looked down at her to ask, "How is your sister?"

She read between the cryptic lines and replied with a charismatic smile, "Who can say? She was excited to leave at first but she's grown rather fond of this place. It has quite the peaceful ambience, doesn't it?"

"Don't tell me she has plans to stay here?" he spoke smoothly but his voice held a hint of inquisition to the last sentence. If he had to lose Vivian, he would relinquish her to her own time to live with her family. He would not live to be an old happy man if she were to run off with another man in his time and bid them all adieu.

"No, she knows her priorities and she's told the town she's marrying a spice merchant in Giza" she informed with a confident smile because she had worked on her exit strategy. They had become known faces at the port after spending more than a month there and Vivian didn't shy away from socializing in neither disguise. Quelimane carried a friendlier ambience than Lake Victoria and she'd fallen into a false sense of life that she didn't mind living.

Altaïr shook his head to her crafty lies and knew Zevran's reason for leaving would be tremendously dramatic. Hopefully, she wouldn't decide on murdering the character and leaving the town in tears. Vivian's smile widened when his brown eyes twinkled and he stated nonchalantly, "That's a shame because I was hoping to take her for a trip around the beach since she avoids me like the plague."

"I've heard it's the other way around but she might, that is, if the fish smell has left you" she replied suavely with a wink as she returned to adding a light sprinkle of cool water to the produce. Altaïr was happy to live a quiet civilian life but Vivian enjoyed her outings as Zevran as she explored like a crazy mongoose. It was for that reason that they didn't spend time together outside of the inn and he'd objected to sharing his limited time with another man. She brought a faint smile to his lips when she added with a wag of her eyebrows, "Because my room must remain as fresh as a dewy morning in winter."

And so they did . . . after he removed the ink off his body when an uncorked bottle fell on his head when he tried to get fancy with his calligraphy. He had wanted to impress Vivian with his penmanship by adding a few border decorations on the sign and accidentally dunked his foot into a vegetable crate. It inadvertently set off a chain of events that ended with black ink soaking the top of his head and the shoulders of his clothing.

"I think you're losing your touch" Vivian commented playfully as they walked down the beach with the evening breeze beginning to graze their left sides. The azure sky was no longer its cheerful blue as hints of orange and lilac began to usher in sunset. She loved seeing the sun set over the sparkling ocean as the bright pulsing orb brought down its curtain of colors to usher in a starry night. Altaïr had never been one for sunsets but after she stopped their camel ride back in Giza, he had begun to appreciate those simple things in Quelimane.

"Nothing is true . . . you don't think I'm going to let them see my reflexes, do you?" he explained with a haughty snort and she punched his arm lightly to his playful joking. He didn't raise his voice to be dramatic or shoot her a charming grin but she loved the rare down-to-earth sarcasm. He flicked the bottom of her right ear for the weak strike and feigned a firm voice to lecture, "Harming a grand master is a punishable offense."

"Well, it's a shame that there's a poster boy in front of me" she replied back with a witty smirk as she used his current position to loophole her way to that joke. He grumbled under his breath because he missed being an assassin and shot her a look that clearly read 'stop making fun of the name'. She simply chuckled good-naturedly to clap him on the back and teased playfully, "No, I'm savoring this for a while longer."

He uttered a groan from within his throat for being downgraded from a master assassin and brought up, "Would you like to know what my first job was?"

Her pearly smile with the matching twinkling eyes told him 'you'd better, mister' and he answered flatly, "Washing laundry. I picked up all kinds of clothing and had to wash it for the younger children since women lacked in our order. The wives of assassins rarely remained in Masyaf itself unless they were assassins themselves due to Al Mualim's rules on childrearing."

"So, that's why you go insane when there's a stain on your clothes! You'd have a clothes-gasm for this liquid we call bleach that whitens anything" she declared amusingly as she eyed the new set of clothes he wore. He'd worn his lucky gray assassin pants and her hand sewn beige tunic that tied at the waist. Dressed as an assassin or civilian, he was a handsome man in her eyes and his relaxed disposition made their walk even better. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the reflective water that resembled glittering diamonds to adjust his vision and Vivian deliberated, "My first job was babysitting my cousins when they were small since I was a safer cheaper alternative. I bought a book with the money I earned, hence my love for reading."

"Tell me about your family" he requested gently and gauged her reaction as the invisible wall rose to kept him at bay to her deeper emotions and he wanted to know why. If he could scale it slowly, he hoped to reach an answer. He had his own fortresses as well but with every passing day, he opened the impenetrable doors just an inch for her. He wanted to know about her life in the future, not the world's, in an effort to grow closer to her.

Vivian hesitated because allowing him to delve into her vulnerabilities would bond them deeper and when time came to separate, it would be more heartbreaking since she'd be bearing Malik's loss as well. Unlike Malik, however, she cared for the man standing in front of her and leading him into her old life could strengthen those emotions. Her gaze avoided his as it shifted to the ocean, the water's brilliant shine reflecting from her green eyes as she spoke softly, "If you travel down this path and open those doors, I will open myself to incredible pain when I leave. Are you willing to risk that for both of us?"

"You don't hide it from Malik so yes, I think we'd be better off knowing" he answered easily without hesitation and she aimed a knowing look because he wasn't the type to openly share. He wrote his thoughts in the codex and although she knew some of those writings, he failed to speak on any matters plaguing his heart or mind as he stuck to his missions only. Vivian didn't have that luxury due to her social nature and she was greatly reluctant to weave him to her old life. Altaïr wasn't having none of that because he'd fight tooth and nail to achieve his goal and stated honestly, "I'd really like to know who you are, Vivian, before you leave us. I don't like mysteries hanging over my head. We've developed a friendship that I didn't deem possible and I won't shy away from the imminent pain when the rewards will outweigh it."

"You've always been the strong one" she murmured admiringly since his heart could bear scars that most couldn't and he offered a faint lopsided smile. Even though she no longer believed he was indomitable to withstand a barrage of arrows, he was her hero in crispy white robes. Her elbow brushed along his as they walked down the beach barefoot and she smiled impishly, "Since you're so insistent-"

"Oh, you haven't seen my insistent side" he scoffed smugly because he'd trained as an interrogator under Al Mualim for a reason. His low voice sent a shiver down her spine for the second time in Quelimane and she tucked her hands neatly behind her back to dissipate that feeling. My, he could charm the pants off women with his voice alone (not that, uh, she was thinking about it). He decided to begin the first round to gain that distinct trust he'd been working towards and recounted his youth, "I had no siblings. My father, Umar, died when I was young, executed for an assassination gone wrong, and my mother died in childbirth from complications. I never knew her name because Al Mualim restricted access to parents since we were raised under him but eventually, I found my answer through conversations with other assassins. They were estranged to me since our order was placed high above all else so my sense of family now is to guard my assassins."

"I've always been a solitary man, Vivian, but not because I sought to be" he admitted solemnly about his childhood because he was a lonely child after Abbas refused to continue their friendship. He wasn't an anti-social child by choice but circumstances forced him to be under Al Mualim. His hands wrung together over his stomach in a rare form of modesty but he trusted her enough to admit, "I did seek to find attachments but after Abbas, only Al Mualim stayed at my side- he became my only sense of family. I didn't want to repeat the past so I kept to myself and people didn't particularly care for my personality, not that I made it easy. If I would've had a friend like you and if I hadn't irritated Malik with my smartass comments, I wouldn't have turned out the way I did."

She smiled sympathetically to his private confession because he'd rarely spoken about his early childhood. He had stated those years were never his best and she never pried further to respect his choice. Without thinking, her hand slipped into his to offer a comforting squeeze to show she'd support him all the way. How could she not? Altaïr appreciated the gesture and his heart warmed to holding her dainty hand again without reaching for it this time. He was ready nab a longer hand holding session with the elusive badger and asked curiously, "You have two sisters, correct?"

"Natalia and Penelope" she answered with a small smile since her family remained a private subject due to her sudden departure. It carried the same rarity as his past did due to the emotional trauma but keeping silent could also bring the same harm. She didn't want to forget them or be ashamed for having to hide their meaning in her life. Opening that can of worms would only worsen her current life and she mused freely, "If time flows in the same manner in my realm, Natalia will be ready to start her college search to further her education. We're an everyday family but mom always wanted us with a good education and dad treats us like treasure since we- they're all he has left. My youngest sister will be learning her arithmetic and improving her reading, she likes to draw and write a lot. They mean everything to me and I spoil them with whatever money I have left since our mother's not there to do so. My mother . . . she died in the same manner as yours, complications arose and it was too late to save her without risking Penelope."

Her voice faltered as she avoided specifics about that painful chapter and continued softly, "It . . . it's not something I talk about openly because it still hurts, despite the years. I'm sorry you couldn't have your mother beside you," her hand squeezed his again before continuing, "but I cherished mine for the time she was able to spend with me. She was my world and it's not easy to forget that. It must be even harder to bear for my dad now that I'm gone and I miss my family dearly, Altaïr. There isn't a day I don't think of them and it grows harder and harder to remain objective about all of it."

He released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders as her frame appeared delicate against the ocean breeze. He clutched her close through their stroll to offer the same comfort she had after learning to reciprocate it correctly. Hugs had been an odd action to his inexperienced mind but now, he could wrap her petite form under his and lift her feet off the floor without trying. For now, a loose one-armed hug would do to reassure her everything would turn out well and he smiled earnestly to advise, "I'm sure she's proud of all the knowledge you've gained since arriving here, you've grown from the pesky little badger that fought me tirelessly. You've supplied me with invaluable help on this journey and you've gained numerous skills along the way. I don't know a thing about parenting but I know I'd want my daughter to be happy. Are you happy, Vivian?"

She smiled appreciatively for the kindest words he'd said since that night he locked her in their shared room in Egypt. He was a sweetheart despite he claimed he had no finesse for it but Vivian loved that private side of him. It took strong willpower not to entrap him in a tight bear hug and she placed her hand over his to improvise her thanks. She wasn't going to drop the assassin in the sand to show affection because they had a tendency to roughhouse now that she was growing in the physical sense. She was no longer a tiny flea feeding off Altaïr's awesomeness and admitted, "I've been quite happy these past months at Quelimane and I'm _truly_ sorry about what I said on you lacking safety. You've kept me safe since you found me and although we haven't seen eye to eye on a few things-"

He smirked faintly on that obvious fact and she squeezed his hand to finish earnestly, "_You're_ the one I want by my side when the world crashes and burns around me."

"There's nothing to apologize for . . . but my life will never be stable, this is probably the best I could ever offer and it's during a mission" he stated grimly about his life because safety would only be an illusion or barely temporary. He could never offer her what a civilian man from her time (or his) could and a nice single family home for her would be out of the question. It was the main reason he struggled with when allowing Vivian to do as she wished because he wanted to be the one in her life. For the first time, he began to acknowledge that Vivian had weaved herself into his heart and he wanted to keep her there for as long as he could. This was his little badger and if he had to relinquish her, it would be to her family only. The pain of releasing her to another man would be agonizing enough but with his lifestyle, it seemed the most logical choice to prevent her falling into the wrong hands. It wasn't worth the risk of losing her and he'd rather have her safe among her kin than dead for following him loyally.

He licked his lips as he paused for a moment to dwell on the pivotal events in his young life because it had never been stable. Death was constantly looming over his shoulder and to lure her into that life would be irresponsible of him, no matter how much he wished it. He couldn't tear himself away from the brotherhood and with her being his number one supporter, it would be impossible. Vivian was ready to object with the fun times they'd had along the way but he knew they couldn't last forever. Their time together wasn't eternal and he admitted faintly, "It will never change and the best I can do is keep you out of the fire."

He blinked with surprise when she embraced him with thanks to his promise but he returned it wholeheartedly. This time, there was no awkwardness from the first time and he held her close like a lover as her body molded against his. He loved placing his chin on top of her head as he used one hand to cradle that precious mind filled with wit and intelligence. It was her best asset and he appreciated her selfless help to pull him forward. Her hands rubbed circles underneath his shoulder blades to show the same care and Vivian shifted the conversation back to a happier place, "So, tell me, where did you get the scar on your lips?"

"Only if you tell me why you constantly sing" he requested with a confident smile and she chuckled, releasing him to tug him along on their casual stroll. She knew how to dull the worries lingering in his mind about her, his life, the brotherhood's survival, and numerous other topics.

He learned more about her old life from that simple stroll than he had the entire year they'd known each other. She told him her earliest memories, embarrassing moments, her favorite things, her pet peeves, and the fact she still watched children's cartoons for the sheer fun of it. It only helped to solidify the fact that she was the one he wanted by his side as he sacrificed every fiber of his being and any hope for a stable future for the sake of mankind.

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**A/N**: And the romance keeps building as Altaïr begins to poke the hornet's nest! We can see just how protective he's grown of Vivian to the point that he finally acknowledges her meaning in his life. Vivian, however, is trying to keep him at bay with a ten foot pole despite all her heart wants to do is hold him. I also like exploring Altaïr's fake civilian life as he tries to put his own existence into perspective since he delves into that when he's old. All he's ever known in assassinating and while Malik and Vivian have fun fitting into those civilian roles, it takes quite a bit of adjusting until he finds his footing- which he has as a poster boy (I can't stop laughing at that). Next time, we'll reach the high point of their teetering relationship when Altaïr takes the plunge to kiss her in an all or nothing chance.

_Nate the Grate_: Thanks!

_Hollownature_: I totally understand about life, I just started my registered nursing program and have not had time to write anything new since starting so I'm glad I wrote these chapters' months ago. Altaïr has had a lousy time when it comes to jobs and I can hear him telling his sons in the future 'When I was young, I gutted fish and never whined a day in my life' just to keep their heads up. As for the lemon, it will be separate for those who can read on without it and I will definitely be posting it in my notes once it's ready.

_IsraAl'Attia-Theron_: It's been a long road but I think most went 'squee' when Vivian did that bold move and we'll go 'hurrah' when Altaïr returns it next chapter. Malik will turn brotherly once they're heading to Madagascar when Vivian asks him to help her repel him.

_Lissa_: I'm glad you loved it! It's about time Vivian both shocks and pleases the readers and Altaïr simultaneously.

_PurplePantherOfDoom_: So you know what a humongous flirt Zevran was and with Ezio being a mix of her disguise, Vivian can be pretty outrageous for that time frame. After being scared of the wilderness and depending on the assassins to survive, she's finally found a safe spot to come out of her shell and explore. I wish I could use more current games but since Vivian is from the 2009 time frame, I'm limited but I'm glad you're enjoying Dragon Age (I loved the first game).

_Anna_: You had me laughing at imagining Altaïr leaping towards a random OC to declare his love on first sight. He's such an intense character that leaves you thinking about what he's thinking, oddly similar to Connor, so he wouldn't fall head over heels for Vivian- who didn't exactly find the game character she expected. Thank you for enjoying the story and I hope you liked this chapter!

_KrnYong_: I do agree that empowering women is probably the worst way to have a huge finger pointed at you in that time era but you're right, it's in Vivian's character. She's a caretaker by nature and similar to Maria, she'll stick to her guns- even when Altaïr advises her otherwise. After hiding in fear for over a year, she no longer needs to look over her shoulder and that's a lot of energy itching to be released. Altaïr definitely has his humorous flaws as it contradicts Vivian's assumptions and it will help his case when he tells her to stop holding his game as his predestined path since he wants to carve his own road. I can only imagine how his childhood was and it's something I'll focus on in the sequel as he raises his children. Darim will be the natural prodigy with the heart of gold while Sef will be studious type that Altaïr worries over since he loves to pick up rocks and sneak into libraries. Vivian has definitely become his emotional stress reliever as she inadvertently tweaks him to become the wise man we'll see in Revelations.

_lone green leaf_: I'm glad to hear you have your shipping gear on for what awaits the two inevitable lovebirds.

_YaraThor_: Thank you for being a long time reader, I appreciate hearing from those that have followed the story for quite a while (40 chapters, yay!). Vivian is a crazy little cookie in a tiny body and Malik always has a lady's eye on him (the man's ridiculously handsome, lol) but it will be some time before he finds his permanent lady (who I plan on introducing much later). I would love for Desmond to see the crazy antics of his ancestor but since the team jumped quickly to Ezio, they will miss all of that (or who knows, maybe he could catch a tiny glimpse and keep it to himself). Somehow, I can see Vivian joking that she'll be the next Bilbo Baggins but she'll make her little manuscript one day to pay homage to her friends.

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**Next Time**: _A Detour Off Destiny_

Vivian smiled proudly to remembering every lyric of her parody song and loosened her hold when he turned around to smirk, "You are a sharp little woman, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't be alive if I wasn't" she quipped with a warm chuckle to her odd skill set in his world but wouldn't give it up. She might not have the ability to use long-range weapons or heavy ones either but her mind would be her best weapon to wield. All of her gathered knowledge, however, wouldn't prepare her for what happened next.

His lips sought hers to plant a small kiss on her mauve lips, grazing the apple of her cheek with his thumb as he closed the gap between them. He'd been growing rather fond of their time spent together and although they were teammates, wondered if she reciprocated. Her norms were different than his but his signs were pretty crystal clear for a man living in that century that he was interested. Vivian's instinct and emotions returned the innocent peck on the lips but before he tried to pull her into an embrace, she placed her fingers on his lips. After months of wondering what it would feel like and his past experiences with women, he sighed with disdain to that particular movement, "Why does every woman do that? Am I such a horrible kisser? Are my lips the consistency of sand?"

Vivian sighed in dismay to what she'd done, remembering that similar maneuver from Maria, and immediately wanted to say no. Why had she used _that_ of all gestures? A simple nudge on the shoulder would've sufficed! He had legions of women ready to fall at his feet in heaps and she was one of them but couldn't admit it out of fear. She couldn't sink his future on the pure basis of attraction when many depended on him to procreate with Maria. Fortunately, the mission came first to stomp out her sentiments to knock logic back into place and she stated gently, "I can't. You already have your path and that's all I will say for your benefit. Now, we can either continue talking as two colleagues or-"

"You kissed me back" he interjected softly to the reciprocation and Vivian decided to exit the scene before she became red as a cherry to tell him he was right. The way the light reflected from his brown eyes only softened her resolve to keep everything locked up tight in her heart.

"I . . . uh, left some clothes in a soaking bowl" she excused herself quickly as she leapt from the bed to escape but felt guilty instantly for doing such a thing to him. She wasn't a coward or stricken with confusing teenage hormones; he'd taught her to tackle things head on. He was someone who deserved her utmost respect and she returned to sit at the edge of the bed again, brushing the side of her hand across his cheek. His sun-kissed skin was as soft as she imagined and the growing stubble gently pricked her fingers as her hand withdrew. He wasn't going to pursue another kiss or offer a 'come hither' stare to match Ezio's, leaning back against the wall to hear her say. Man, even his lazy pose was alluring.

Vivian's fingers tapped idly on the bedcover as she held back her nerves and spoke with regret, "It never happened . . . it just _can't_ and you know why. Now, I suggest you rest your weary mind and I'll arrange your drawing items on the table downstairs so you can work and eat afterwards."

His mind wasn't weary in the slightest because he'd never been more certain of anything in his life and disagreed, "Vivian-"

"Don't delve into this, _please_, for both our sakes" she advised softly with a solemn smile since hearing her name from his lips knocked her socks off easily. She could have his voice as a voicemail message and never tire of hearing him say 'leave a message'. He had shifted from the kind of man she'd be happy to get a mere 'hello' from to the type that she'd happily spend all of her days with. She had been lucky to glimpse into the man behind the iconic robes and he was a modest man that was happy with simplicity. Unfortunately, both the man and the assassin were fated to wander into the road of another's- not hers.

He nodded quietly and they left the matter alone as neither acknowledged it, reverting back to their friendly dynamics.

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_That might be their first kiss but it certainly won't be the last as the next chapter leads the two on a test of will. Thanks again for reading and please review, it makes my day now that I'm back in school killing my brain with medical jargon to help people.  
_


	41. Detour From Destiny

**Music Inspiration:**_ Inon Zur- "Leliana's Song"_

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**A Detour from Destiny  
**

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The next week brought him insight to what she'd really been doing the day she arrived into his world and he'd laughed at the idea of people using his image in a life size paper object. Of course, his lungs almost burst at knowing she'd been frightened by the thing and wondered if that was what Isis meant by her arrival being done at his hand. With no malice in his reaction, his sincerity allowed Vivian to laugh alongside him without embarrassment- a feat he was glad to accomplish. He learned what she'd wanted to do with her life before appearing in Jerusalem and what she'd spoken about women's rights helped change his viewpoint as he wrote about it in his codex weeks later. He would never mention her by name as he kept her secret in case of repercussions due to her futuristic origins or slipped Maria's name in there as a decoy. Although, there were times when he wanted to buy paper and start his own rambles or ponderings about her because she'd done the same about him. Vivian's demeanor had always stirred an array of emotions in him but a new one had been forming since their trip in Uganda: affection.

Although he'd wanted to knock himself unconscious for desiring her in such a way, he could only accept it. She wasn't the wrong type of woman for him but her origins made it near impossible for him to have his sentiments requited. Why couldn't he have met the 12th century equivalent of Vivian now? Somehow, he doubted she'd be as quirky and fascinating so he was stuck with a unique little woman that made him smile. Who else could say the same? He found himself wanting to know more about the woman who'd been in his company for over a year and cast aside the normal role they'd had as seer-assassin. Now, it was simply a friend-friend equal relationship where neither dominated the other.

Malik awaited them on one of their returns home and he'd cornered Altaïr to demand that friendship was all he'd better seek from their historian companion. The dai had been catching onto the recent changes in his behavior and it didn't take a genius to translate Altaïr's nonverbal cues. Altaïr assured him it was simply friendship (and took a cue from Vivian by pointing out a cute random object to catch his friend's attention) but Malik didn't hesitate to point out he had two people at Masyaf. Of course, this led Altaïr to state that his son was always a high priority in his life but Maria had kept quiet on anything concerning them. She only mentioned in her last letter that she wanted him to look out for their son's best interest but nothing on their old entanglements- they hadn't been courting at all! He had held a fondness for Maria, yes, but Vivian . . . hers kept growing at an alarming rate as she fit him like a puzzle piece.

Vivian overheard the brief argument from the stairs and he didn't see her for an entire week after that encounter. He didn't dare to disrespect her room by breaking the latch open but he missed their daily chats. He began to question Malik's words then because Vivian was the one he sought when he needed to vent or escape his problems. There was a form of dependency brewing on his end and he worried for when the time came to bid Vivian goodbye. Could he do it? Could he bear severing that bond for the rest of his life without regret?

The last week before their leave, Altaïr could see the calmer change over the ocean and knew that it would soon be time to leave the port. He found it odd that he remembered each of the town people's names as he would his own assassins and the small time spent among them showed him this was what he fought for. All of his efforts were to protect free will, independence, and peace at all costs. When he happened to solve a mystery of stolen fruit that led to a gang of crafty seagulls, that was all part of his 'for the better of mankind' motto. Of course, when he left Malik to bear the angry squawks while he basked in thank you's. . .well, that was a bonus.

One evening, Vivian cornered him as he whistled a merry tune (yes, _whistled_) and pulled him into her dark bedroom in one yank. He was surprised by her strength since he was a foot taller than her but he'd recently been allowing his vigilance to drop inside the inn. Quelimane had indeed lulled him to resemble a fat lazy cat and chastised himself for being caught unaware by a civilian of all people. Vivian tugged him inside quickly as he tried to regain his balance, all while she smiled eagerly to ask, "Do you want to know how it feels to soar above the sky?"

When she said sky, he calmed somewhat because he had expected something scandalous or life threatening that would have him clawing at the wall for escape. Still, he didn't understand how he could see the sky in the middle of a room. She ushered him inside with a friendly wave of her hand as she plopped down on her bed and explained enthusiastically, "I can't believe I didn't think of it after seeing firsthand how the Animus works in the games. Abstergo had to gain the knowledge for such an advanced use of genetics from somewhere, right? Even my era isn't as highly advanced in that field as Desmond's so there has to be a point of origin for such a creation."

Altaïr didn't understand her flurried rambles as she basked in her discovery and only caught the main point, "Use the Apple and read my memory."

Her lips curled into an impish smile as she opened the book into her world and stated confidently, "I can show you the world Aladdin style but without the magic carpet ride."

He pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent the twinge of pressure that threatened to build every time she uttered something eccentric. Considering that he'd exploded into rants and chased her with a brandished weapon for it, he called this an improvement. He stood in front of her with a wagging finger in regards to that carefree smile of hers and sighed, "I am seriously considering writing a dictionary on your strange slang."

"Oh no, you might be discovered as a talented writer ahead of his time instead of staying in the dark" she joked gently and grabbed her pillow stuffed with bird feathers to drape it over her head like a hood. He directed a deadpan stare when her eyebrows wagged comically to her poor imitation of an assassin. She would never be assassin material but he appreciated her hand in helping his side gain an advantage.

Altaïr merely smiled cockily when she stopped her ridiculous brow wagging and feigned a sigh, "You wound my pride, Vivian."

"I am the delicious Zevran too, you know" she chuckled because her face was covered with her homemade makeup to conceal her identity. Altaïr shook his head because he didn't like Zevran in the slightest and looked to the nearest washing bowl, approaching it to grab a towel. He wanted to return the true owner of that petite form because he was fond of her, not her sickeningly charismatic character. Soaking the cloth in the lukewarm water, Vivian quirked an eyebrow to his questionable action and asked with a cautious low drawl, "What are you doing?"

He walked up to her to press the damp washcloth against her left cheek and rubbed the makeup off her skin. Vivian was ready to protest but he had a masseuse's hand as he rubbed circles toward her temples to wipe off the different powders. She didn't appreciate having droplets run down her cheek towards her neck but his dexterous movements were indeed relaxing. Hmm, if assassinating didn't work out, he'd be a master with the art of massage. He didn't move from an area until he saw her familiar beige skin peek out at him and told her simply, "You don't need to masquerade yourself here. I want to see you for who you are, not your characters."

She didn't have any comeback for that and smiled fondly to his words. It made her believe her sex appeal wasn't horrendous like she thought because the 12th century would destroy women accustomed to daily makeup, hair, and modern fashion routines. Her newly washed cheeks darkened when the tip of his thumb brushed against the edge of her bottom lip and the inner fangirl in Vivian burst into rainbow confetti. Her neatly folded hands began to wring together as she met his gaze to admit honestly, "I'm not a showstopper by nature and these characters give me a new of freedom in your time . . . but I'm glad you enjoy my company."

He found her admission delightful because she was a lost lamb too when it came to drawing others. She lit up his days like no other and he leaned down to squeeze her fretting hands protectively to say with a small smile, "I wouldn't be anywhere else- we're two odd fish in a barrel."

Didn't he know how perfect he sounded when he uttered words like that?

He left the room to retrieve the Apple from his safe space and Vivian quickly massaged her cheeks to lower the rosy tint engulfing them. What happened to her defensive humor shield or imagining him with beaver teeth? He was disarming her so easily now! Being in such close quarters only fueled her attraction to him and her heart was conflicted with guilt when the slightest touch from his hand delighted her. She was struggling to keep him at bay and hoped her strict principles wouldn't drown with her growing affection.

"You're going down a dark road, Poppin' Fresh" she muttered hopelessly under her breath as she combed her fingers through her tied hair. Her coping mechanisms concerning him were failing every day and his increasing proximity towards her wasn't helping matters any at all. There were times when he glanced at her or brushed his fingers against her hand that she saw a spark of something else in his eyes but it was gone a second later. Maybe it was her imagination or her deepest desires that perceived it that way but it wasn't helping her any. Altaïr didn't help at all by constantly seeking her company and shooing away anyone that was remotely interested in her. Shaking her head, she dropped her chin into her hand as her elbow propped against her knee and sighed, "Ubisoft got this eagle motif totally wrong with him. The man is a damn wolf with territoriality issues or a lethal mountain lion at the least."

It wasn't long before he returned with the item and with it, sat down across from her as he held the ancient artifact between his hands. Vivian didn't dare glance at it out of fear for its power because she certainly wasn't an illogical Sue that would mindlessly grab or peek closely at it. Nobody knew the true powers of the Apple and she wasn't going to be sucked into its dangerous web. Altaïr looked to her for any last second thoughts because this was her mind- a private entity- that he would invade and asked carefully, "Vivian, are you certain about this?"

"I trust you- it's as simple as that" she replied earnestly with a sincere smile because she wouldn't allow the same risk with another person. Closing her eyes, she wiggled into the soft mattress as she sat cross-legged to rest comfortably for the ride. It was best that she didn't see the entire process but he didn't keep her waiting long when she felt a wave of tranquility wash over her. Her first expectation for the memory perusing would've been pain but instead, she fell into a calm sleep like a newborn kitten. She hoped that this was a mercy act on behalf of the Apple after seeing what it could do within the games.

Altaïr, on the other hand, ventured into her mind to the distinct memory of her first airplane ride so he could witness every moment. After meditating with the Apple for over two years, he was better able to handle the foreign object without harm to himself. He did have a flicker of worry about hurting Vivian because the Apple had not been kind to anyone _but_ him. Thankfully, the Apple behaved benevolently as it led him down a long white shimmery tunnel until he reached a moving color portrait that belonged to Vivian. Instantly, he was drawn to the animate painting of strange chairs and his surroundings transformed from the white hallway to the interior of a vessel.

His first guess would've been a ship made of wood but the material was unlike anything he'd seen. Being a guest in Vivian's memories, he wasn't able to interact with the world around him and could only walk in her shoes. The 'plane' was indeed an odd vessel as he sat in a soft chair that was the plushest his butt had greeted in decades. No wonder Vivian loved her time! He already wanted to pry that chair out of her memories and keep it for himself. He was allowed a better view of the plane as Vivian plastered her face against the window to peek outside until her father lectured it was dirty. Little Vivian didn't care. There was unbridled eagerness in her young heart after traveling from the waiting area at the gate into the plane and felt entirely grown up for carrying a small suitcase all on her own. He wasn't surprised to her jubilant nature as a child as it carried well into adulthood to rain embarrassing terror upon him.

Altaïr saw through her eyes as people outside the vessel loaded rectangle boxes made of an unknown material underneath its belly for storage. He smelled the cold circulating air through the cabin and was drawn by her mother's voice as a brown eyed woman with raven hair smiled at him with endless affection. Vivian had her smile. Her hands clicked a metal belt, which was attached to the seat, over Vivian's stomach and Altaïr assumed it was there to protect her. It was soon followed by a cozy blue blanket that warmed the coldness he felt inside the large confining vessel and she leaned against her mother to chirp, "Are we there, mama?"

"No, honey, we're still on the runway- see the people outside?" her mother chuckled warmly to her eagerness to land in Madrid to see her grandparents. Vivian's eyes followed her mother's finger to where people holding odd sticks were waving them in specific directions. Her attention to the small people was snatched away by a woman at the front of all the rows explaining safety procedures. Being a small child full of curiosity, lectures didn't excite her and Vivian snuggled against her mother with a content smile. Altaïr sensed the deep attachment to her as she clung to her mother's hand and empathized with the eventual loss of her maternal figure. He might not have had a mother to tend to him but Vivian loved hers dearly to the point that she chose her as a connection to the future in her journal.

The first movement of the plane occurred when it slowly turned towards the takeoff field that was littered with symbols and roman letters. The sound of turbines powering up for takeoff startled Vivian out of her huddled form but her mother reassured everything was fine. Her simple explanations of the vessel preparing to lift into the air also helped Altaïr understand it because he was centuries from grasping any of it. Vivian was quick to return to the window to glue herself to it as the vessel moved forward and gained speed each passing second. Altaïr had never felt such fast speed in his life and feared for little Vivian's safety as she watched everything transform from solid forms into blurs. The tipping of the plane as she was pressed back from the force and the popping of her ears unnerved him. How did people feel safe in such a dangerous contraption?! The safety of solid ground was gone and the horrible noise, not to mention partial sensory deprivation, didn't comfort him at all. While Vivian felt excitement and a little dash of nervousness, Altaïr was a mess of fear to the unnatural speed.

Before he knew it, the plane lifted off as he remained pressed against the seat and couldn't fight against the force. How had mankind achieved such a machine? Had it been recent or had it existed for a longer time? He was shocked to see feathery white clouds floating by in a friendly wave of hello until they reached high altitude. Was he really flying at the same level as them? Puffy clouds soon greeted Vivian's eye as the plane soared through the sky to stabilize at a horizontal angle and the land was barely noticeable. Altaïr could only see brown-greenish land underneath him fade as Vivian tried to peek at the earth one last time before only clouds and a plane's wing greeted her.

He remained within her mind until she reached her destination to experience landing in that strange behemoth and left the rest untouched as promised. She had allowed him a glimpse of her time and he wouldn't betray that trust by pushing further. He could feel the energy of the piece fading as the last tendrils of control left her mind to avoid an abrupt leave that could hurt her. It was the first time he had attempted such an action with the Apple and would do his best maintain that control.

Vivian slowly regained her self-control, feeling as if she'd been entranced into a snooze fest the whole time without any recollection of it. The feeling to being on the receiving end of the Apple was eerie and she shook her head to clear it as exhaustion set in out of nowhere. Hadn't she just been mentally unconscious under its spell? Why did she feel as if she'd been awake for two days straight and ready to collapse?

"Are you all right?" he asked carefully as he watched her blink rapidly before yawning aloud. She leaned forward slightly as the sudden lethargy surprised her and grasped his right forearm for support before she toppled over like toddler. His strength was enough to keep her rooted to that spot as she balanced herself again.

"I feel tired all of a sudden" she answered drowsily as she tried to clear her mind from the sudden dog and flashed a little smile. Altaïr translated it as the 'everything's okay' face because there were times she didn't believe her own facial expressions as she struck a brave front. She sat back to straighten her posture and rubbed her eyes to renew the lost energy that had been zapped. She chuckled softly at being correct in never underestimating the power of a POE and stated, "I guess that's what happens during mind reading with unknown technology. Hey, _we_ should read people's fortunes based on their personalities to make money in the next place we visit."

He shook his head to her get rich quick schemes (or 'shenanigans' as he called them) and pointed out simply, "I've had enough jobs here to last me decades and besides, _nothing_ innocent dwells in your lair."

She stared at him with a curious gleam in her eye as it boosted her ego and he admitted flatly, "I am still having trouble comprehending that mechanical monster you boarded. I've never seen anything quite like it and frankly, it unnerves me that you're so advanced."

"That was a small plane, we have larger ones now with two turbines on each wing" she informed nonchalantly to avoid flustering his boggled mind further and he frowned to that knowledge. He could've lived without it! It was times like this that he felt inferior to her in intelligence due to her large grasp of history and the technology in her grasp back at home. He'd never admit it but seeing her eyes light up whenever he saved the day or solved a mystery made up for that insecurity. Yes, he could scale the walls of buildings but if she put him in the seat of one of those 'airplane' machines, he would fail horribly. She managed a lazy grin through the POE induced side effects as she preened humorously, "Believe me now when I tell you we can reach the stars?"

"With incredibly great reluctance" he murmured flatly and gazed at the item in his hand that lent a hand in building the world into what it was. It had been giving him knowledge for the past two years and nobody knew nor was ready to comprehend what it meant for world religions and technology. Instead of feeling gratified for the chance to finally know the truth about the world he lived in, he felt melancholy. Everything that existed was set in motion by those unknown beings and the visions he was given through his meditations were wisps of what was to come- without him.

He pocked the item in a leather pouch he'd brought in to avoid touching it for any longer and gazed at Vivian to admit solemnly, "I realize how short life truly is and how many things will come to pass centuries after I am gone. I will never experience any of it but I can thank you for allowing me one moment of being in your shoes. Nobody looks to see the past and whenever I glimpse into this, I see images of manmade creations that most will probably perceive as simple daily transportation but what I would yearn to experience with the eagerness of a child."

Vivian understood his conflicted feelings about mortality because a gap of centuries parted them and life would continue on without them until the sun died or the Andromeda galaxy cannibalized the Milky Way. Either way, they were mortal and fated to return back to the earth. She'd had her own solemn moments about him during the second game at knowing Altaïr was somewhere in that timeline within a tomb and no longer kicking ass. It would happen to him in this life as it would to any human being, her included. Well, unless there was some weird immortal piece out there for him but what were the odds of that?

"The future's not all it is led to believe and your descendants looked to _you_ for guidance" she soothed and tried to mar the future since she wondered the same about what the year 3000 would look like. Yeah, she should really stop watching Futurama reruns. They couldn't wallow in the fact that they weren't immortal and smiled gently to comfort him, "You'll do enough to knock the socks off future generations."

Her hand tentatively touched his cheek for the first time as she broke the personal boundary in place for compassion. She believed her skin would turn to ice the second she touched it since the man only sported his stoic face and no other. The man lacked the acceptance of sympathy or kindness out of fear that it would show weakness after being taught to depend on himself by that crazy old man. He didn't need to worry about the fact that he wouldn't drive a car or learn how to work a cellphone and she advised kindly, "Forget the future. You make this world free of Templars and you'll find this time frame better than what the others will be. I mean, do you really want to live during the bubonic plague era? World wars? Forced colonization? Genocides?"

"Not when you put it that way, I'd rather stick to this" he agreed hastily to those dreadful scenarios and looked to the hand offering comfort. The old ways would've asked him to cast aside or use it as a stress reliever but he'd experienced new emotions since his journey for redemption and he no longer saw them as weak. His only friend had been Abbas in his youth and after being rejected for telling the truth in an effort to kindly console, he'd told himself that he didn't need it. But Malik, Rauf, Bashir, and Ilias showed him differently since his return to Masyaf and he liked that. Then there was Vivian. . .

Vivian was on a pendulum that swayed back and forth as she shielded her heart from immersing itself with him. They were friends and he wouldn't fracture that but when she behaved openly with others that didn't include him, he wanted to carry her off like a child would their favorite toy to protect it from dirty fingers. Well, more like a pet horse because he never had toys to begin with but it was all in the same category. Altaïr wasn't the sharing or the emotional type but it left him with a conundrum when he glanced at her. Those emerald orbs brightened every time he glimpsed into them and they beckoned him to grasp her by that unruly mop of raven hair to kiss her.

Her hand retracted when she felt the uncomfortable silence fill the room and stood up to announce awkwardly, "I'm going downstairs to help with dinner."

"Vivian" he called hesitantly, gently pulling on the sleeve of her robe before she could escape his vicinity. He didn't want her to leave his side just yet and although he'd probably made her uncomfortable about skin contact, he sought it. If anything, he desired it with Vivian only. Unfortunately, telling her that would warrant a quizzical eye because he wasn't the type to admit his feelings openly. Instead, he requested something she never thought she'd hear from the solitary man, "I . . . could you . . . keep me company?"

"Of course, is something wrong?" she agreed immediately to offer a friendly ear as she sat on her knees and huddled over to his side. He loved that selfless trait of hers and the fact that she always settled by his side whenever he needed to talk privately. It took away the brief hints of uncertainty whenever he gazed at her directly and preferred looking at other objects to remove that vulnerability.

"No, well . . . I'm at a loss sometimes" he murmured faintly and placed the bag with the item on the small table next to her bed to prevent an accidental activation. He looked to her with uncertainty on his face as the glimpse into the future brought questions he feared to ask himself, much less another person. Vivian had grown to be his closest confidante outside of the order and her knowledge helped to coax his worries to remove it from his shoulders. He asked one single question that often plagued him since meeting her on that fateful August morning, "Must I be the hero in this?"

"Someone has to be, otherwise, we're looking at psychological slavery or a fiery death" she sighed softly with sympathy and squeezed his right shoulder to the burden laid upon his shoulders. The survival of their species rested on his shoulders because they had a natural catastrophe looming _and_ murderous Templars to defeat (and financing Assassin endeavors into the next century) but it couldn't be done alone. His work would echo through the centuries and hopefully, it would be enough to lend an advantage. His gaze avoided hers as she leaned forward to encourage his resolve by stating firmly, "You hold the best qualities and I know you're the one who will lead us out of this. There is no doubt in my mind you're the man to shift the order into a new century and finding these pieces is just the start. Don't underestimate yourself, even when you feel at your lowest."

"If you'd never played that fictional game of mine, would you believe it?" he asked skeptically because he hadn't made the best companion (if anything, the worst) but she merely smiled. His little companion held great patience that he was fortunate to have but he wanted to believe that time would allow it to rub off on him. She never doubted him and whenever they disagreed, he relented to her choice because it would always be the humane option. He wasn't perfect, far from it, but she made him feel like he could be.

"Of course . . . now c'mere for a badger hug" she chuckled softly and opened her arms to envelop him with an encouragement booster. It wasn't often that he voiced his insecurity about the future and his own life but she'd be there to set things straight. Everyone had those thoughts once in their life and the road he would walk would not be an easy one to bear but she'd be there to grasp his hand to pull him along.

Physical comfort was still new to him but he was adapting to it and Vivian leaned against the wall to pull him into her arms. Hmm, lifting produce crates had certainly helped her weightlifting skills. The assassin offered no resistance as he fell into it for the first time, releasing all of the pressure in his mind as his back faced her. Anxiety tugged at his instincts for turning his back to anyone but he knew Vivian would never harm him. His head rested against her right shoulder as her arms held him in place over his shoulders and gathered loosely around his neck as they relaxed together. The small room offered them privacy that the large cities lacked and the protection added to it was a rarity for an assassin.

He felt inclined to offer a reason for asking her the philosophical questions and admitted quietly, "My order looks to me for endless support and guidance as their grand master. I offer all that I can but sometimes it might not be enough to protect everyone or give them all the answers. My answers can either lead us in the right road or into catastrophe and it isn't easy to bear. When I look at myself for such aid . . . I don't really have anyone to do the same because I was taught otherwise. Malik is my dearest friend but there are some things that his mind will not be able to grasp, the images that the pieces show me, and I feel alone for that. You're the only one who's ever shown me compassion through my stubborn moments and you don't judge my way of thinking or question me about the pieces- you look out for _me_."

His gaze softened as he offered a faint smile towards the feisty badger that kept prodding him to be a good man and thanked her, "I've . . . never really had that outside of my order and I do thank you for it, Vivian."

"It's not easy being you, I still fight you a bit but . . . you're a good soul, Altaïr" she replied sincerely because he'd grown quite a bit over the year and could only see that road brightening. Her palms rested over his heart to carry meaning to her words because although he was incredibly prickly in demeanor, he cared for the good of others. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating through hers as she held him and stated confidently, "You are my leader and I won't hesitate to help- even if I'm not of your order. I'm not the strongest person out there, I don't inspire confidence, and I can't wield a blade with finesse, but you have my loyalty and knowledge. Anything that I have is at your disposal because I believe in you- you are my commander."

She wrapped her arms around his neck to squeeze him gently and his heart melted when she whispered, "I'd follow you anywhere on this earth without question. Apparently, something noticed and granted that by a dimensional change or whatever science wants to call this baffling phenomenon. Whatever words I might have uttered in the past, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else at this moment."

"So you _don't_ regret all of the dangerous situations I've placed you in?" he preened flatly about all of their dysfunctional missions but appreciated her words. She might not be strong like she said but her tongue and mind definitely made up for that lack. Her help wouldn't be forgotten because it would tear at him to relinquish her and murmured softly, "You are my screeching bard of enlightenment."

"Sweet, I'm Leliana from Dragon Age" she grinned impishly since she already used Zevran and squeezed him once more. Altaïr uttered a small grunt of complaint for being squeezed like a piece of dough but relaxed once he realized that she wouldn't do this to anybody else. He was the heroic figure in her eyes and he basked in that honor, even if it meant bearing an uncomfortable squeeze. Besides, whatever didn't kill him only made him stronger. She was an odd little badger, after all, and he sighed dramatically when she piped up enthusiastically, "And you . . . you will be my Sten. The stoic but deadly qunari warrior that chops up people in his way-"

Altaïr placed a hand over his forehead to that deviation in conversation and leaned against her to mutter disappointedly, "You ruined the mood, Vivian."

She scoffed to his accusation because prying him away from grieving ruminations was better for one's spirits and pointed out, "Who's to say that _wasn't_ my intent? Cast aside who you are for five minutes, become a normal man, and assume a fake life-"

Altaïr leaned his head back to offer a side glance to the crafty woman wagging her eyebrows and snorted matter-of-factly, "That's _exactly_ what we're doing here in Quelimane. You're a vendor/charlatan abomination," she glared at this and he continued, "and I'm an artist/wood cutter in the making. We have deviated quite far from who we are and quite frankly, I'm surprised neither of us is clinically insane by now."

"At least you don't dive headfirst from four story buildings anymore" she admonished gently about his unbelievable acrobatics and smiled cheekily. He slumped in her arms for a moment because he missed that most of all! What good was an assassin that couldn't leap from buildings? People might as well tie them to the ground with rope! She squeaked in complaint because having him go boneless on her would only crush her under his weight. He hid a cocky grin to hearing that tiny noise and she exhaled through her nose as her chin rested on his shoulder to admit, "You don't smell like leather or sword cleaning oil anymore, neither do your clothes. I almost miss it."

"I actually miss your ridiculous songs, especially about the man 'who cast De Sable down'?" he mused playfully about her horrible singing voice and her rhythmic tunes about his life. They had been a hindrance ages ago but now, he rather liked them. Whenever she decided to use Ezio or some unknown person, he made it his mission to have shameful lyrics rather than catchy ones. Why should they have the glory when he was the one bearing her screeching voice? Vivian chuckled to the fact that he remembered one of the many songs she'd boasted and he asked with interest, "How does it go?"

"_Who's the greatest assassin ever?  
A hero of renown  
Who slayed an evil Templar?  
Who cast De Sable down?_

_Altaïr!_

_And that time the vile Templar  
Captured a damsel fair  
He, who saved Maria with such bravery,  
She offered him a love affair?_

_Altaïr!_

_Also, he fought a crocodile!"_

Vivian smiled proudly to remembering every lyric of her parody song and loosened her hold when he turned around to smirk, "You are a sharp little woman, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't be alive if I wasn't" she quipped with a warm chuckle to her odd skill set in his world but wouldn't give it up. She might not have the ability to use long-range weapons or heavy ones either but her mind would be her best weapon to wield. All of her gathered knowledge, however, wouldn't prepare her for what happened next.

His lips sought hers to plant a small kiss on her mauve lips and he grazed the apple of her cheek with his thumb as he closed the gap between them. He'd been growing rather fond of their time spent together and although they were teammates, wondered if she reciprocated. _Could_ she reciprocate? Her norms were different than his but his nonverbal signs were pretty crystal clear for a man living in that century that he was interested. Vivian's instinct and fond emotions returned the innocent peck on the lips but before he tried to pull her into an embrace, she placed her fingers on his lips. After months of wondering what it would feel like to have her in his arms and his past experiences with women, he sighed with disdain to that particular movement, "Why does every woman do that? Am I such a horrible kisser? Are my lips the consistency of sand?"

Vivian sighed in dismay to what she'd done, remembering that similar maneuver from Maria, and immediately wanted to say no. Why had she used _that_ of all gestures? A simple nudge on the shoulder would've sufficed! He had legions of women ready to fall at his feet in heaps and she was one of them but couldn't admit it out of fear. She couldn't sink his future on the pure basis of attraction when many depended on him to procreate again with Maria. Fortunately, the mission came first to stomp out her sentiments to knock logic back into its rightful place and she stated gently, "I can't. You already have your path and that's all I will say for your benefit. Now, we can either continue talking as two colleagues or-"

"You kissed me back" he interjected softly to the reciprocation and Vivian decided to exit the scene before she became red as a cherry to tell him he was right. The way the light reflected from his brown eyes only softened her resolve to keep everything locked up tight in her heart.

"I . . . uh, left some clothes in a soaking bowl" she excused herself quickly as she leapt from the bed to escape but guilt struck instantly for doing such a thing to him. She wasn't a coward or stricken with confusing teenage hormones; he'd taught her to tackle things head on. He was someone who deserved her utmost respect and she returned to sit at the edge of the bed again, brushing the side of her hand across his cheek. His sun-kissed skin was as soft as she imagined and the growing stubble gently pricked her fingers as her hand withdrew. He wasn't going to pursue another kiss or offer a 'come hither' stare to match Ezio's, leaning back against the wall to hear her say. Man, even his lazy pose was deliciously alluring.

Vivian's fingers tapped idly on the bedcover as she held back her nerves and spoke with regret, "It never happened . . . it just can't and you know why. Now, I suggest you rest your weary mind and I'll arrange your drawing items on the table downstairs so you can work and eat afterwards."

His mind wasn't weary in the slightest because he'd never been more certain of anything in his life and disagreed, "Vivian-"

"Don't delve into this, _please_, for both our sakes" she advised softly with a solemn smile since hearing her name from his lips knocked her socks off easily. She could have his voice as a voicemail message and never tire of hearing him say 'leave a message'. He had shifted from the kind of man she'd be happy to get a mere 'hello' from to the type that she'd happily spend all of her days with. She had been lucky to glimpse into the man behind the iconic robes and he was a modest man that was happy with simplicity. Unfortunately, both the man and the assassin were fated to wander into the road of another's- not hers.

He nodded quietly and they left the matter alone as neither acknowledged it, reverting back to their friendly dynamics.

* * *

Nonetheless, Altaïr found himself returning to her vicinity like a drunken honey bee to pollen when he found her perusing the market stands for produce. He had caught sight of a fluttering emerald skirt that he'd bought for her with a few extra pieces of coin that he'd had left over from their 'survival from severe poverty' fund. The delighted look on her face had been enough to bear through Malik's lecture when he lied about spending it on snacks. His little historian was easy to pinpoint through the crowds and it wasn't long before he approached her from behind without her being any the wiser. Her unruly mop of hair had been tucked into a messy bun at the base of her skull and the bare nape of her neck beckoned him to run his fingertips over her beige skin. Why was she so stubborn to admit her own attraction to him? It was no longer a secret since she failed to beat the living daylights out of him when he kissed her so he could only give chase to make the truth known.

He'd sneakily taken the purchased produce in her bag until she noticed it was gone as the weightless basket gave him away. It had been fairly easy to detect him when he'd worn his trademark white robes but seeing him clothed in a neutral brown hid him well. She feigned a thin lipped expression while mischief twinkled in his eyes for managing to steal her produce.

Vivian eyed the smooth assassin with mirth to chastise him playfully, "Stealing from a fair young maiden, are you?"

He returned her items to her basket before anyone actually thought he'd stolen them and answered wittily, "It's not considered stealing between friends."

"How is that excuse reasonable? You nag us when something of yours goes missing" she questioned cheekily as she paid the owner with polite thanks, leaving the stand to peruse for goods elsewhere. Whenever something went missing from his packs, he ransacked everything until he found it. He'd torn an entire desk apart for three straps of leather, which he later found inside one of his pouches. There were times she wondered whether he had an obsessive-compulsive disorder . . . until she glimpsed into his messy packs and bedding.

He mulled over the question as he led her onwards with a hand on the small of her back until finally, "I'm your leader, that's why."

"No, you're being cocky" she scoffed dryly to his double standard because he loved sliding out of the rules. Shade engulfed them as they entered a small street between residential homes and walked away from the busy stores at the port. Unlike Vivian who loved gazing at the sparkling calm water, he wanted to be leagues away from it.

"Where are we going?" he asked with confusion as she linked her arm through his to lead him elsewhere as she took control. He secured the grip, keeping her close rather than afar as they strolled through the area together. The port was safe . . . but he rather liked the feel of holding her arm like a couple wandering the area on a shopping spree. If they were actual civilians, he'd be buying feed for livestock and his wife groceries for their home. Ugh, this port was making him long for the impossible every time Vivian traveled by his side.

"I am treating you to lunch" she answered perkily and he allowed himself to be led, but kept an eye out for trouble. One could never be too careful and he'd rather punch someone unconscious before Vivian beat him to it by kicking them in the groin. He'd never been invited to eat with anyone and decided to let her lead their new adventure as she explained, "There's a very nice eatery that prepares fish dishes. Wouldn't it be nice to take revenge on what made you smell like death?"

"Only because you're paying" he remarked smartly just to see her little frown but he'd pay for both dishes since it was the polite thing to do. He didn't understand the customs of her time but his own ordered that he protect the bold historian from harm, not that he minded anymore. He wanted to shower her with whatever she wished but he couldn't afford any of it with the lifestyle he led. It was a reason as to why he feared intimacy with another because women expected men to be providers and his life required him to be away from Masyaf quite often. His abilities to offer gifts to the fairer sex were also horrible because he doubted presenting a dagger to Vivian would suffice. His shoulders slumped to the realization that they would be poor when they arrived at Madagascar and muttered despondently, "We will need to change currency again, won't we?"

She nodded with disappointment since they'd managed to live like everyday people for a few months and soon, they'd be piss poor and in danger. Alas, that was the life of an assassin. With their humble jobs, life hadn't been very hard as they set up a temporary life at Quelimane without wondering when food would run out. Once on Madagascar, everything would be crucial again because they wouldn't know where the POE would be. Vivian wasn't afraid to say she'd picked up a few pounds as the lack of travel and ample food filled out her curves.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the eatery and Vivian soon returned with two plates of freshly made food. They found a nice bench to sit by as it overlooked the calm sea but Altaïr would have a better sight with his plate. The smell was aromatic enough to drive him over the edge and he dug into his food like a ravenous wolf while Vivian uttered small prayer. She stuck to her religious beliefs despite the artifacts had shown otherwise but he assumed it was due to her goal of returning back where she belonged. True, she already immersed herself in his world but she wasn't from there. Just because religion would be thrown into chaos in his own time, hers still had the possibility that life had a higher meaning in the end. Her life belonged to the twenty first century while his was a thousand years in the past, one that mortal years wouldn't allow to bridge their gap. His body would be dust by the time she inhaled her first breath of life . . . it was rather somber for him.

She noticed his lingering stare when she finished and chuckled nervously, "I might look foolish to you but something's kept me safe thus far-"

"Me" he pointed out matter-of-factly without shame to the numerous times he'd saved her from danger. He had never been the type to believe in anything but he'd like to think that he'd meet the special people in his life once they all returned to the earth.

She ate a grilled piece of fish from his plate in retaliation and reminded, "And it's a tie to my world, one that I have to return to."

He wanted to offer that it wasn't necessary to return to her world but he couldn't impose his thoughts onto hers. That was more of a sneaky Templar thing. He nodded quietly and returned to his meal, which wouldn't be leaving him anytime soon. Vivian watched him pick at his food lethargically, a contrasting change from seconds prior, and nudged his shoulder with hers to cheer him up. She didn't like speaking about the future because it meant that they wouldn't be together and it was best to avoid that for the moment. She held up a piece of roasted fish with creamy sauce slathered on it and smiled to coax, "Try this. It's scrumptious."

Instead of grabbing the piece, he ate it directly from her fingers and she chuckled to the action. It didn't strike either as odd after their time together and although he was a clean person by nature, he didn't mind anything from Vivian. He nodded agreeably, returning his own morsel to share and she accepted it with a smile. If they happened to get sick from improper hand hygiene, at least they'd be bedridden together. With her lips sealed around his fingertips, he joked about her appearance, "You eat like a little bird."

Her foot lightly kicked his for the wisecrack and he chuckled as she swallowed her bite to reply, "Better than an eagle."

Grabbing another bite from her plate, she bit into it as sauce smeared over her lips and she smiled joyfully, "But this beats both."

He chuckled softly as they picked off items from each other's plates and traded quips about their eating habits. When Vivian managed to get food stuck over one of her teeth, his forehead touched hers and it paused her eating to the invasion of her personal space. Before she could remind him that she'd rejected his advances, he pointed out nonchalantly, "I believed this would lessen the embarrassment of telling you there's food on your teeth."

Her cheeks darkened immediately to his method of revealing information and she squeaked embarrassingly, "This is _ten_ times worse and couldn't be more mortifying. I could summon enough humiliated strength to implode on this."

She proceeded to turn around and scrubbed her teeth clean with her finger (all she could do was improvise) before she melted into a small puddle of her own embarrassment. Altaïr found her bashfulness amusing but said nothing of it; his small smirk doing enough damage to Vivian's ego. When she smeared sauce over his lips, it withered immediately but it brought her a laugh as he reminded her of a fussy baby. Despite his infamous intimidation factor, he managed a soft chuckle as she evened out the playing field to feel adequate.

"I'm not that frightening, Vivian" he assured gently because he didn't want fear to drive her away from him. Yes, his lifestyle was dangerous and he could break people's necks in seconds but he was a human being as well. He wasn't a machine fueled by missions and had begun to enjoy his civilian life with Vivian helping him to grasp long forgotten skills. She was the one he owed his current progress to since she fussed relentlessly but he treasured the fact that she cared enough to do so. He peered at her flushed cheeks as she tried to appear miniscule next to him and Altaïr stated simply, "I'd sooner stab myself than harm a single hair of yours."

"It's not that . . . it's your aura" she admitted sheepishly because anyone would fly into the nearest cart to escape his path when he was tracking down an ass to kick. Her early encounters with him left her rattled enough to use a sarcastic defense mechanism and nowadays, her feelings landed her in sticky water. She picked up scraps left on her plate to leave it clean as she avoided his gaze and stated, "You're naturally prickly by nature and I'm not looking to poke that with a stick. I like you-"

The charming smirk he sent her way only darkened her cheeks in response but she restated swiftly, "I like it when you're not in assassin mode but it's naturally leaked into your physical appearance. Your sharp features don't help matters either but it's okay, it's just my reaction to your awesomeness."

Altaïr would've rather had her bathing his neck in kisses instead of shying away in the nearest corner to maintain propriety. Still, he would take what he could get from her.

* * *

Malik watched the two enter the dining chamber of the inn as he practiced his sketching skills. His days off were spent wonderfully on his hobbies and his time was long enough that he'd begun painting landscapes again. What did manage to pry his eye away from his hobbies was Altaïr's constant vigilance over Vivian and her whereabouts. The man was never able to stay still when she wasn't around and when Malik searched for one of them, he usually found both together. It didn't take a genius to figure out his friend had begun to see their historian friend as something more and he was having none of that. There was already a child waiting for him at Masyaf, along with his mother, and Malik wouldn't allow him to slip out of those duties. He couldn't sow a field and expect to find another to dilly dally with after a year- not on his watch.

His eyes pinned Altaïr with accusation for tailing after Vivian as they piled inside and the man justified, "I said hello and _she_ dragged me to eat. I was fed handsomely against my will by this conniving but generous badger."

"I highly doubt a man of your size and strength could be overpowered by a smaller woman" Malik stated dryly but Altaïr scoffed since the dai knew nothing about Vivian's capabilities when fueled by badger rage. Curses, he was already thinking like her too! Vivian tried to distract Malik by handing over the basket full of his grocery list to show that they hadn't been dilly dallying around town. She smiled serenely to maintain a 'good girl' defense and Malik ignored Altaïr as he told her, "Thank you, Vivian."

"I was the mastermind that kidnapped Altaïr so he's completely innocent" she explained with an innocent smile that Malik didn't buy but it was better than Altaïr's shabby attempt. It was either a horrible grimace or one that resembled a psychopath's manic grin- this time, it was the latter. Vivian had been his little lamb once but now that she'd grown into her shoes, he needed to guard her from the amorous eagle looming above her. Their historian, however, was a woman on the move during her free time and informed the two with a carefree grin, "Now, I must return upstairs to destroy my ransom notes."

She left with lightning speed that didn't allow Malik to put a word in and Altaïr used that time to leave the inn once more through the front door.

Malik sighed aloud to their abrupt exit as they escaped one of his lectures and muttered under his breath, "Confound it, those two will drive me insane on that boat."

Vivian pried her door open with a giddy grin for the pleasant outing, cheerful to the day's events. It was an improvement that she and Altaïr hadn't pelted each other with food or blown into a competition, basking in the calmness of the sea instead. He did have the capacity to relax now in comparison to a year ago when he forced her to eat his own measured portions so she was proud of that. Her smile widened when she spotted his familiar figure already sitting on her windowsill, surprised he made it up there quite fast. The man wielded Superman speed so she wouldn't ponder too much about his capabilities.

"You're going to earn another of Malik's lectures for this" she warned with a cheeky smirk to his daring actions because Malik had the nose of a bloodhound whenever Altaïr was concerned. Despite his grumpy demeanor, the man was a magnet at drawing her attention and Vivian soaked it all up like a sponge. Yes, she cared for him but she found him interesting just the same to keep spending time with him. Who wouldn't want to hang out and learn from a badass assassin?

"It's worth it" he scoffed smartly as he sat against the windowsill with a casual air about him but she shook her head to his sudden confidence. The idea of relaxing against a window lacking glass didn't appeal to her and she tried to tug him away from it by the hand for obvious safety reasons. He withheld a chuckle to her effort and stood up to enter the room, causing her to fall when he leaned forward to stand. She hit the floor on her butt and uttered a groan from the impact since she'd only tried to keep him from falling out of a window, not inadvertently hurt her tailbone. He snickered under his breath to ward off the laugh forming in his throat at seeing her crumpled form because her strength really couldn't do much.

She kicked his lower leg from her spot as she caught his amused expression and declared sarcastically, "Laugh it up, you big ham."

He uttered a low laugh to relieve the pressure in his chest but leaned down to help her stand upright. Grabbing her hand into his, he easily lifted her onto her feet in one move without even trying. His strength never failed to surprise her and she tried to amend for her lack of it by stating confidently, "One day, I'll lift _you_ up."

"You'll more than likely break your back and never walk again, Vivian" he dismissed with a smirk to her defiance as he walked around her room to observe any suspicious changes. Usually, he'd just enter to either reprimand or seek answers from her but he'd never taken the time to study it until now. Her travel packs were kept in the empty second bed across from hers as they bordered the windows. Being the finicky man that he was, he commented about its size in comparison to his with a displeased frown, "It's small."

"I'm an unmarried woman with a nonexistent sexually ambiguous brother sharing it so we don't need much space" she pointed out easily and grabbed her travel pack to fumble through her clothes. She wasn't fond of skirt robes since the moment she left Masyaf and wanted to use breeches for her last hours inside the inn before sleep. It was aggravating to keep up her lady routine in the 12th century but she wanted to survive and keep a decent reputation. She opened her arms to what she considered an ample room (contrary to the assassin) and smiled widely to boast, "Plus, I get a free bed to use when I don't feel like cleaning mine. It reminds me of home because I actually have freedom and independence reminiscent of my time- even at this small size. _I _own this area and can do what I want. Welcome to Viviantown, Altaïr- population 2 and counting."

Altaïr found himself smiling to her bold enthusiasm since current laws kept women without much choice for independence in life, denied formal education, and no careers in comparison to the freedom of men. When she hitched her full skirt to tie it into a knot at the left side of her thighs, he tried to avoid looking at her bare legs out of respect. The other half of him that was more akin to being a man than an assassin itched to sneak a look but his strong will persevered. He tried to avoid glancing at her completely when she began wiggling her butt comically as she sorted through a pile of clothes in the pack. That image was _not_ helping matters any after being rebuffed as a romantic interest and he chided her in reminder, "You forget this is my time, Vivian."

She turned to him with a bright smile and shook her head to state smartly, "But you're different than any other man so it doesn't count here. You've discovered truths that render religion driven laws of men useless . . . so don't undermine women."

"When have I ever?" he tried to evade the question since he'd given her a tough time for quite a while until leaving Egypt. A little smirk on her lips told him she knew of his intention but she allowed it to slide in order to pull out her leisure clothes with a triumphant grin. It really could get annoying separating her Zevran clothes from her ambiguous casual clothes since women were expected to wear skirts only. He picked up on her displeasure to female fashion as she frowned at a brown skirt that spilled out and lightened her mood when he said, "Thank you for kidnapping me today."

She laughed to his small joke because nobody could ever kidnap him (of all people) and replied earnestly, "No problem and thank you for pretending to steal my produce. If you need another kidnapping, let me know."

He chuckled softly as he watched her fold her rumpled clothes neatly over the bed. She balled up her ivory sleeping tunic and tapped him on the tip of his nose with it, smiling in amusement to his unimpressed expression. He grabbed the crumpled ball to throw it on the bed and pulled the petite historian by the shoulder to press his lips against hers, seizing the private moment for a real kiss. She froze immediately to the action, fighting against her better judgment when he drew her closer. Goodness, she kept underestimating his strength and could only compare it to an iron bar holding her in place when he used both hands. His soft lips left hers for a brief second as he embraced her close and they brushed against her jaw as he whispered, "Relax, Vivian."

"_You_ relax" she shot back nervously since they weren't treading anywhere good and cursed her feelings for gushing happily to their current position. He was an amazingly handsome man in her view, especially when she could see the golden flecks in his brown eyes so clearly, and their friendship had only served to fuel that bond. If she hadn't known his future path, she would've put on her Ezio charm but that wouldn't be respectful in their current situation. His right eyebrow quirked to her weak comeback since he was pretty peachy compared to her and she mumbled lifelessly, "I know, it was awful."

"Agreed, but we are due for this" he pointed out since he'd been chasing her romantically before arriving at Quelimane and this was the boiling point. He wanted to hold her close like any longing admirer without outside interference and knew what he felt wasn't wrong. There was something pure brewing for her that surpassed others and he met her gaze to draw a reciprocating response, "No more running, little badger. We've done enough of that since leaving Lake Victoria and it is time we face it."

Her muscles relaxed as she fell into his embrace for the first time after spending another perfect day with him and felt a gentle kiss press against the side of her lips. There should've been a law against him uttering her name or fond nicknames in that timbre. It had 100% persuasion! His kisses, on the other hand, were rather sweet in their gentle style as she clung to him with a regretful smile. How many times had she wished to be in that same position outside of her own imagination? He was innocently suave, she'd give him that.

His lips met hers to close the distance to test the water once more with his reluctant partner. All he could do was reassure her that his feelings were real and his heart skipped a beat when she eventually returned it. It was a gentle kiss on her part as she tried to maintain her stance about professionalism but he wasn't having any of that. He had tried being impartial about it during their arrival but the thought of her courting another while he stood by was unbearable.

"It has become extremely hard to pry you from my mind" he admitted softly as their second kiss ended and he gazed at her, smiling to the rosy tint on her cheeks and ears. How many times had she done that and scuttled off to ignore him? It was far too many for him to count. Her green eyes tried to dodge his to prevent falling into his piercing gaze but his forehead touched hers to prevent it, cupping her chin in one hand to keep her from moving. Their close proximity tugged at her heart as it debated whether to run or stay but his intentions were quite clear. A chaste kiss to the tip of her nose stirred an instant smile as he whispered, "We are in the most private place imaginable and I've waited months to have you in my arms. You have me mesmerized and walking around without the possibility of touching you is slowly driving me to madness. Show me what you feel, I have no issue using actions instead of words."

How long had he felt this way? Vivian expected a random attraction fueled by their constant proximity and asked uncertainly, "_Months?_ At Lake Victoria, you were so-"

"I know, an ass of epic proportion" he agreed with more colorful language than hers and kissed her temple with a soft sigh of regret. She had stirred a myriad of reactions as he worked through his feelings but it hadn't been in the most respectful way possible. He'd hurt her more than once in attempts to shield himself emotionally but he cherished that she stayed by his side and that in itself impressed him. Vivian squished her inner fangirl as she melted against his embrace and he admitted modestly, "I didn't want to make the same mistake I had with Maria and you were _incredibly_ different from me. A small energetic woman that I could crush but you drew me like a moth and although you burned me repeatedly with your shenanigans, I am still drawn. Do I . . . am I the same . . . to you?"

He'd never been told what was desirable in him as a partner nor if he attracted women physically. His face was always shrouded, he didn't shave regularly, and his hair shared the same fate but if he could afford to do so, he would. His work took up so much time that he barely looked at himself unless it was to bathe or wrap a wound. Vivian could see the awkwardness on his face as he asked a question that had never been uttered nor did he think it ever would. Although she was inclined to reject his advances, she peered into the man that hadn't had the same social exposure to develop intimate bonds and sympathized with him.

"Yes, I don't think you need to ask that- you have romantic admirers all over the world" she admitted earnestly as she spoke for herself, the people in her time, and for those that needed that boost in their self-image. There was no question whether he was attractive physically and he doubled that with his beliefs, not to mention honor. How many times had he saved her life? How many dinners had he attempted to cook for her and served when she didn't feel well? He could knock her socks off with a single wag of his eyebrows and complimented his best physical features, "You have the healthiest skin color I've seen on any person here, your hair is ridiculously soft for a man, and you have these gorgeous jewel toned eyes. . ."

He smiled to having that long age question answered and she finished softly with a fond smile, "You're handsome to me in every way- inside and out. There's no question about it."

"Thank you" he murmured sheepishly since being called handsome was a new one since most females chased after Malik. It was a boost to his confidence because he could now say that he didn't repel all women with his looks. He wanted Vivian to want him after investing in his feelings in her and squeezed her shoulders to coax gently, "Show me how much you desire me."

"Altaïr-" she blushed furiously to his words because they could head down multiple roads and her face turned tomato red within seconds.

"Not like that!" he reassured quickly because they'd barely shared a kiss or two and he wouldn't act disrespectfully to her wishes. She was a stubborn one as she hid her feelings from him but he was determined to crack them with patience. His nose nudged hers as he angled his head to dot a kiss on the cupid's bow of her upper lip and whispered, "I just want you to share this moment with me."

Her hands snaked towards his shoulders, wrapping behind his neck as she leaned against him. She'd never touched him outside a professional setting and breathing air into his lungs didn't count but he'd already attempted it once. Her gaze flickered to his once in a single second before meeting his lips to return the kiss. There was no hesitance in his kiss as he embraced her close, sending shivers down her spine with his agile tongue. Why couldn't she have stronger willpower? Or colder logic? She could feel the concealed passion underneath his strength as he cradled her close and her whirling emotions were satisfied with each graze of his lips. He wasn't the best or worst kisser in her life but the fact that she cared so much for him made him perfect in every way.

A shaky smile appeared on her lips when he ended the kiss and he smiled with gratification at seeing her instinctively reach for him once more. Once she saw that he wasn't continuing their kiss, she cleared her throat awkwardly as her cheeks darkened. Great, that would not be putting points in her corner to stop his shenanigans. He stirred a sharp surprised gasp from her when his lips lowered to kiss the crook of her neck and his warm breath tickled her damp skin. Her shoulders arched towards him in reflex, embracing him closer as she breathed his name to call his attention. Why couldn't she just throw him aside- easier said than done- or kick him in the nads? She shook her head against his, nudging the tip of her nose against his cheek as she dissuaded quietly, "We can't. _You_ can't."

"Tell me to leave and I will" he dared with the ultimatum, molding her hips against his as he kissed the artery pulse of her neck. She drew him like no other, inhaling her unique scent to memorize it, and whispering her name made their intimate moment even more private. His voice sent a shiver down her spine as she became the number one woman in his sights and wished he couldn't render her nervous system useless. His nose grazed hers as he kissed her lips lightly with the softness of a modern pillow and whispered, "You've been in my mind for months and I know the same must dwell in yours."

She would've been happy to roam over pastures with a silly grin on her face like her fantasies but she couldn't. Altaïr was meant for another and she couldn't stand in the way of the future merely because her heart fluttered at the mere sight of him. With the future of the order in mind, she made the hard choice and placed her palms on his chest to order, "Please leave."

He stilled to her decision after hoping that he'd broken through to show his feelings were true and murmured disbelievingly, "I didn't think you'd do it."

She closed her eyes briefly with regret at having to tear her own heart into pieces and reasoned, "You taught me that the mission comes first and this isn't it. If anything, it is _far_ from it and the repercussions. . ."

He cupped her face to run his calloused thumbs over her cheeks with gentle care that she wouldn't have believed existed with his strength. It was enough to make her savor that display of affection for just a moment and wished that he could've been a random assassin she'd fallen for- not the grand master himself! Why was fate so fickle to her? Altaïr, however, was confident that he could make a worthy future all on his own and reassured, "My line will continue and the scientific laws of your time might not apply here-"

"The laws of time cannot be altered, a mere change could become catastrophic" she whispered solemnly, closing her eyes with restrained emotion when he kissed the side of her lips. Oh no, he wasn't going to lure her bitten heart with those soft kisses. Her principles ruled out her heart because the future was more important than mutual attraction. She attempted to have him see her reasoning as she grasped his tunic and pointed out, "What if this moment here decimates a third of your future lineage?"

"What if it doubles it?" he countered smartly since his badger was a fertile woman in her own right with many productive years ahead of her. He would bed her than any other woman in existence for the rest of his life after the adventures they had lived through over the past year. Who was to say she couldn't give him the same quality of life another woman could offer? When he looked at her, he didn't see a woman worthy of a temporary fling but a permanent life partner he couldn't be without. It was already troublesome imagining a life without her and it was one he wasn't keen on facing.

The insinuation wasn't lost on her and she coughed awkwardly to that possibility because she didn't think he thought of her to that extent. Their embrace wasn't helping the sudden ringing in her ears as blood rushed to her head and she replied with a firm tone, "What if Desmond becomes a woman named Desiree for mentioning him to you?"

He scoffed to the scenario because a woman would probably work just as well. This 'Desmond' was an unknown character to him so who was he to know that there wasn't a better descendant of his out there? His lineage went in multiple directions throughout the centuries so there could always be an ample number of assassins to carry on his work. Who _wouldn't_ want to be his descendant? He raised his chin in defiance to her opposition of having a future together and pointed out, "What if he ends up being a grand master of his own instead?"

She wasn't going to take the bait of boosting Desmond to an even better position because that could heavily alter his core traits. He would not get a pass on their attraction merely because it could _possibly_ improve the future. Being a natural worrier when it concerned him, she stuck to her opinion and shot back firmly, "What if this injures you months down the line? We don't know what will happen and it will be arrogant of us to assume otherwise!"

"You can't spend your life worrying about the future" he rebuffed and she aimed a skeptical look for his choice of words because they were trying to preserve a fighting chance. Wasn't this the goal of their travels? It was all about saving the future and nabbing POE's, not fending off attracted lure and canoodling under the blankets! Altaïr could see by her restrained shaking that she was a little pot ready to burst at his audacity but he was endeared completely by her.

He captured her lips for a tender kiss to shower her with that affection, parting her lips for a slow kiss that muffled the words on her tongue. They weren't what he wanted to hear but the fact that she reacted to his action a second later spoke volume. She was a fighter to the bitter end but he would win the last battle of the amorous war they had begun on each other. Her fingers curled against his tunic, resisting the urge to pull him forward to fall into a passionate embrace, and she murmured faintly with regret, "I'm sorry, Altaïr, truly. I-"

A knock to the door broke them apart when Malik called from the other side, "Vivian, I need your help with supper."

"I was never here" Altaïr breathed quickly and proceeded to literally jump out of the open window as he left a wide eyed Vivian behind. Did he just dash away in an Ezio-like moment that sharply contradicted his personality? What was the world coming to? Then again, he had left Maria after their amorous rendezvous so maybe genetics demanded the two to flee their swooned women. Seeing him run across the field like a madman just made their situation even more ridiculous . . . but he was sweet.

Her growing affection had been validated by his willingness to pursue something solid and although her heart swelled to seeing him duck behind the corner, it wasn't right. It would be cruel of her to whisk him away from the one he was meant to be with, the one who already had a small infant with him, for something that wouldn't last. Just like sea levels dipped to reveal mountains with time, so would she fade to recede back to her own time and she would only be memories in the back of his mind.

* * *

**A/N**: Squee! The two finally begin their romantic duel as he tries to claim her heart but Vivian is stubborn out of care for his future. Altaïr has an awkward boyish display of affection when they're in public as he tries to find footing in the archaic dating scene he's never encountered. I can't believe it's been 40+ chapters since the story started and we're just getting to the romance since the two have taken quite the time to build what they have. The next chapter will be their last in Quelimane as the typhoon season ends so Altaïr will be teeming with joy while Vivian worries about her future. After that, I'll post the separate intimate piece between Altaïr and Vivian for the fans so I'll inform you of the title. I love this story so much that I wonder about the possibility of vignettes since the trio has a long road in this story and the sequel will span decades (can't wait to see baby Darim and Sef grow). Quelimane has been and probably will be Altaïr's only experience at a civilian life which will add insight to his wisdom as he ages.

Thank you for the recent faves/alerts, I love seeing new readers, and the same love goes out to my reviewers. You guys _make_ my day when I'm exhausted from my nursing classes because it's been taking up the majority of my life now (this week alone I had a presentation, an exam, 100+ pages to read, six pages of patient paperwork, and 18+ hours of patient care). I'm fighting my way to an A at 92% just like Altaïr on every mission and I'm finding myself listening to a lot of the songs I've used for this story, especially the one I chose for Darim and Sef. I hope you all enjoyed this whopper of a chapter (25 pages!).

_EpicJACI_: You're not the only one, some fans have thought the same too. Lol. Malik has that great brother bond with her and I definitely could've seen the two together since they're very friendly approachable individuals. Due to Vivian's affections entering Altaïr's orbit, that means Malik must have an awesome lady of his own by the end of it all. ;)

_Lostwithoutdoubt_: That fish gutter job was the worst for him since he's used to being a mobile person rather than stationary so running around town is definitely good for him. I totally should've included a part where Malik cracks a window at night to let out the smell and Altaïr closes it to prevent a draft. Lol. Altaïr hasn't had many experiences with sentiments but the thought of competition for Vivian definitely drew out his protective side. She's slowly helped him recognize and mature his emotions (she and Malik definitely had their work with his short temper), which will keep forming as he grows older. He still had flashes of his short temper in Revelations but he'd just lost Sef so I don't blame that on him at all. I'm having a tough time myself writing out that death for the sequel because I've written Sef so darn sweet from childhood to adulthood. Altaïr and Vivian will definitely keep opening up as the chapters progress but it will be a struggle as they (meaning Vivian, lol) try to keep everything platonic.

_Lissa_: Lol, I'm in the same boat with the ongoing tug of love between the two. Altaïr's the type to get something when he wants it while Vivian is the rational thinker that takes everything into account. The two will definitely be having chats about their future and we'll be switching back to Masyaf soon to check in on the gang.

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: Vivian is greatly conflicted due to the knowledge she has for the future (pre-Brotherhood, anyway) and will be a chagrin to Altaïr, who would rather carve his own path. Vivian left her time on December 2009 so she's missed a load of things and she'll return to catch up on years' worth of lore and missed time with her family. She'll learn of all of Desmond's ancestors, even the ones that aren't tied to Altaïr like she thought they were. I hope you're having fun with the Mass Effect series, I loved the first game the most due to the plot but the graphics were great in the second.

_KrnYong_: Thanks for the correction, it has been fixed. The story definitely has its climaxes and the resolution for friendship between the two was the first, admitting their affection will be the second (in the next chapter), and the future of Vivian's hidden bundle from that will be the next one. I'll stop now before I spoil the story, hehe.

_Fuzzball_: Thanks for loving the chapter. Right now, time is only allowing me to write three stories- maybe two because I'll be returning to work soon since nursing school isn't cheap- so it will be a while. I'm very sorry for that because I love little Oliver.

_twilit angel_: I'm always glad to make someone laugh, it helps dull pain and any stress away. It's great that most of the readers root for Altaïr since the poor guy deserves it and he really will grow to love Vivian (and so will she). The upcoming chapters will be filled with sweet and humorous fluff from the two so thanks for loving the story.

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**Next Time**: _Reprise of Poking an Enraged Badger_

"Are you as attracted to me as I am to you at this moment?" he inquired to cut straight through their impending argument by disclosing his thoughts at the most inopportune time. Her mouth gaped like a fish's to his bold comment and a myriad of emotion flashed through her face- anger, embarrassment, coyness, and surprisingly. . . acceptance. He closed the distance between them to loom over her and he remarked suavely, "I do enjoy a challenge and stubborn historians have never been added to my list of accomplishments."

She wasn't ready to twist her head around his idea because her way of doing things meant a second baby would be ensured instead of one. For all she knew, he and Maria would pop out a bunch kids but they wouldn't survive childhood due to disease. Her best offense was to avoid everything but he was imperviously insistent. Every attempt she tried to dissuade him failed and she was forced to relinquish control to pacify him. She flicked her thumb towards the bed to pent out their frustrations and proposed with an airy sigh, "I'll give you five minutes on the bed. No inappropriate touching."

"And you called me cold and indifferent once" he stated curtly since he found the offer a bit insulting after building his true feelings for her. She was a fortress trying to protect his future but he wanted to break free for just a moment to see if the grass was brighter on the other side. He knew what he wanted but Vivian refused to give leeway for her own affection, choosing to ignore the truth. He shook his head to her detached choice for affection and reminded coldly, "Attraction is very different from connection, Vivian. You're afraid of the latter but there is no reason to be when I hold the same affection for you. Just as you offer me five minutes, break from those logical shackles just like you did a minute ago and show me what you hide."

She shook her head to the idea of forfeiting her entire heart to place it on a figurative table for him to see. If she did, there would be no place for her to hide when he confronted her about their sentiments. He walked to the bed with an allure that caused her inner fangirl to burst into subatomic particles and raised his hand to state, "I have protected, taught, fought, and trusted you for over a year. Offer me the same courtesy, you have nothing to fear."

"For five minutes, you sure are milking it" she murmured softly as lowering her emotional shield was the equivalence of running naked through town. Didn't he know what kind of floodgate he was opening? His narrowed gaze carried annoyance and dejection to her response but she apologized for the sarcastic defense that served as her last shield. Lying, silence, and loop holing were gone as he exhausted all of them. Gazing down at her current ensemble, she realized her Zevran outfit was still on and made her decision. She was allowing five minutes of bliss into her life (not that he needed to know that) and nodded agreebly, "Good, I have pants on."

Altaïr was barely able to ask why when she launched herself into his arms on all fours like a rabid koala to match his height and he caught her by the waist to bear the sudden weight. Unfortunately, his brain didn't get the memo about keeping said balance and she used her momentum to push him backwards onto the bed. It was safe to say she'd surprised him entirely as she hovered above him on the bed while his legs dangled off the edges. She took advantage of his initial shock to trace her hand through his hair (which needed a haircut soon) and smiled with amusement, "Ladies can't do that fashionably with skirts. Well, maybe the Disney jump-in-your-arms-gently-and-hug-sappily version."

"Five minute rule enacted: no future jargon" he ordered quickly to avoid any communication mistakes and scooted up on the bed to be comfortable, not liking lying horizontally. Vivian kneeled on the spot she landed and eyed him carefully to see whether he was enacting another rule or deciding to forfeit her offer. She wasn't going to the gambling table all in without seeing the same commitment from her opponent- er, partner. He pulled her close by the hand to reassure he wasn't leaving and pressed his nose against her cheek, "You can lead."

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_Thanks for being faithful readers and I'll be back next time with a brand new chapter._ _Please review if you can, it feeds poor Vivian cookies (which she'll need once they leave Quelimane), hehe._


	42. Reprise of Poking an Enraged Badger

**Reprise of Poking an Enraged Badger**

* * *

Maria scowled at the stubborn old poop stain on Darim's diaper that refused to budge under her grip. This had been the third wash at the river's edge and she was just about ready to admit defeat to the bothersome brown stain that mocked her skills. Her son soiled his diapers faster than she could clean them and there wasn't a day that she wasn't down by the river beside the village to wash her clothing. As if the walk to and from the fortress wasn't disheartening enough, she had to carry a fussy infant that was finicky about being carried now that he could sit up on his own.

Being more on the quiet side than the socializing type, Maria washed her laundry alone during the early morning when most women were still performing house chores. It was easier than having to hear chatter and keeping an eye on clothing and-

"Darim!"

She chastised her small infant as he tried to knock his basket over by shifting his weight to one side. His chubby hands were outstretched towards the grass he wanted to crawl over but he turned his head to his mother's voice. At a young age, he knew better than to upset the one who kept him cozy and fed. He puckered his bottom lip to earn sympathy because he'd only wanted to play with the grass since nobody else was there. His blue eyes watered to disappointing his mother and he was ready to sniffle until her face softened to show everything was fine.

Although her hands were soaked with soapy water from washing, Maria quickly swiped them clean against her brown skirt without a thought. She leaned over to scoop her whimpering infant into her arms and rubbed his back in soothing circles. Darim whimpered with content to her affection and his little hands grasped the front of her robes to show all he wanted was a little companionship. Maria sighed softly to the predicament she found herself in and murmured, "You are a lot of work, just like your father- who I'd very much like to kick right about now."

Her son had been rather quiet during his early months and it had allowed Maria to recuperate from the birth to learn her new role. Unfortunately, that false sense of comfort was yanked away when Darim learned to crawl and he'd become vocal about _everything_. She didn't know children carried a natural curiosity for everything as they explored their surroundings and it often hampered her chores. There were only so many times she could use poor Bashir as a babysitter and leaving her only child in a laboratory with dangerous fumes was not ideal.

She wished for a contraption that could keep him occupied while she did her chores because there was food to be made, clothes to wash, clothes to mend, housekeeping. . . ugh, she was _not_ made to be homely.

"But you're still my number one" she smiled tenderly as she touched her nose to Darim's and watched his bright blue eyes blink comically. She knew he loved her and that was enough to forget most of his little morning snafus. The problem was that she couldn't keep watch on him every second of the day. As the days passed, it would be inevitable that her son wouldn't want to explore his world and she had to find a way to adapt to that.

"Gih" Darim responded with a happy giggle and shook his hands with delight, hoping for a friend to play with. Maria glanced at her little son with pity because she could only do so much throughout the day and couldn't focus on him entirely. She loved him dearly with all of her heart- how could she not?- and wanted him to live a loving and enriching life.

"I'm sorry for having you stay put but mother needs to work" she apologized as she placed him down inside his wicker basket to keep him in one spot. Otherwise, he'd be grasping grass and trying to eat it with the only tooth he'd gotten. It was all she could bring down to keep him occupied and the single wooden toy she'd added in failed to catch his attention. Being at a nibbling stage, she wasn't going to have painted toys out of fear he would ingest poisonous dyes.

Darim didn't like being constrained to a basket and whimpered when his mother turned her back on him to return to her washing. What had happened to her hugs? What about his playtime? Had he done something wrong? He'd fix it however he could and whimpered sadly at the thought of being left behind when she returned to washing the dirty clothes filling a nearby basket. If he could talk, he'd be calling for her but all he could do was utter 'geh' or the usual 'wah'.

Maria tried to ignore the sniffling as best she could because it tore at her but the faster she finished, the sooner they could return home. She didn't like being in the open, even in a small safe village, and could sometimes become irritated that Darim couldn't stay still for ten minutes. She didn't blame her little one but she longed for the sleeping two month infant that he'd been. Oh, how she'd finished her chores within two hours during that time and had time to spare to play with him. She slapped a white cloth diaper against a flat rock to begin rolling handmade soap over it to make it sudsy. Otherwise, the stains would never leave Darim's clothing.

When she heard Darim break into hysterical crying, she felt the need to join him because the day was not going as planned. They were already an hour behind on their other chores and every minute meant that Darim would not get his noon nap. If he didn't get that nap, he'd be cranky and would refuse to eat until he fell asleep at his next naptime. Turning around, she multitasked with washing the clothes and tried to soothe her son, "No, no, don't cry. There's no need to cry, mother's right here and she's not going anywhere."

Darim, however, needed physical assurance via hugs and his round face turned cherry red as he continued sobbing. Maria attempted to sing him a short lullaby from back home that usually worked to see if it would pacify his crying. Her soft melodic voice should have done the trick but the current of the river distorted her words and Darim didn't like that at all! Crystalline tears ran down his round cheeks as he shut his eyes tightly to beckon his mother to his side.

Maria looked to the heavens with a long sigh as she wondered what she'd done with her life to be stuck like this on that warm November morning. Where was Altaïr so she could summon a thunderstorm to electrocute him? No, that would leave Darim without a father figure and the man wasn't that bad to deserve that. The crying hurt her ears and pinched at the back of her head in an impending headache because her son had lungs that could break glass. Bashir hadn't believed her until Darim became fussy during babysitting time and his voice shattered one of his nearby beakers. She tried to overcome her son's volume with her own voice as she reassured, "Just give mother ten minutes, please? I promise to let you crawl all over the place if you just let me finish."

Her little one wasn't hearing it and Maria had to decide whether to continue or let the laundry pile up for another day. She hadn't anticipated how much of a pooping machine babies were and the smell from the diapers were strong enough to knock out a person. Deciding to head home, she pulled out the white cloth from the water but stopped when Darim's sobbing suddenly stopped. Her instinct led her to pull out a knife from the cloth belt around her waist to face whatever had quieted her son. Only an animal or a human presence would elicit that reaction and Maria would protect her little one at all cost.

"Put the knife down, everyone can hear him at the village" Ilias instructed as the quiet assassin's approach had cheered up the little infant and his chubby hands reached out for him. He had heard the piercing sobbing down the road while he'd done his usual perimeter checks in the early morning and recognized Darim's sharp notes. He'd never met a baby with such loud crying and found it oddly ironic since both of his parents were quiet. Leaning down, he grabbed the perky Darim into his arms to wipe away the lingering tears on his red cheeks. Darim merely babbled with joy to his presence and sputtered happy squeals to Ilias' coddling.

Maria sighed with relief as he turned from frustrated to happy within seconds and wondered if he'd be the same when Altaïr returned. Darim had become dearly attached to Ilias as the assassin gave her free time to relax by taking him throughout Masyaf to explore. He was the only one she trusted with her son for long periods and it had become incredibly easy for Darim to latch onto him as a fatherly figure. She'd be in sticky situation when Altaïr returned but for now, sheathed her knife to smile with thanks, "One can never be too careful in the open."

"I think the only danger here is the lingering ringing in our ears" he stated with light amusement to the small boy that cooed contently in his arm. Ilias understood Maria's worry for danger but he kept a close eye on their whereabouts after being ordered to do so. Well, maybe at the start but it had become natural nowadays for him. Darim poked at the side of his drawn hood since the assassin only lowered it inside of Masyaf where his identity would be safe. Ilias smiled to his natural curiosity as his crying had faded completely and chuckled, "Do you want a hood of your own as well?"

"Gih?" Darim babbled as he blinked his large blue eyes when the older man spoke and then clapped his little hands at nothing in particular.

"Finish your laundry, I will keep him company" Ilias suggested since his rounds around the village usually saw her heading down the northern path to Masyaf at that hour. It wasn't by coincidence that he did his watches during the time she washed her clothes since the two had become a normal part of his life for the past year and a half. He had witnessed the strong woman become flustered by new motherhood as she grasped the new role but she handled it well as a single mother. Tickling Darim's stomach to keep him in delight, he admitted to his mother, "Frankly, I'm finding myself bored because everything is rather peaceful now. I suppose I should enjoy it so I will not mind keeping Darim occupied whenever you require it, even if you might not think so."

"Ilias, thank you for standing by me through everything" she stated softly for his kindness because nobody else had displayed the same. He had a mild-mannered and sophisticated air about him that always set him aside from the others as he kept to himself. His calm disposition was a welcome difference from Altaïr's intense dedication to run around the world without stop and his patience was immense. She wasn't the type to need someone beside her and while she rebuffed Altaïr, she didn't have that desire with Ilias. He gave her the space she needed and was there whenever she asked it of him so it was a perfect partnership- that is, if she thought in that manner, which she wasn't. She would never be ungrateful for his helping hand since her arrival and admitted truthfully, "I've had my sour moments but truly, I appreciate your efforts. You are my first friend in a long time after numerous bad decisions."

"There's nothing wrong with asking for help, Maria" he reminded amicably since he'd discovered early on that she tackled things head-on rather than asking for aid. She nodded quietly since she tended to do so when she was at wit's end and decided to work on that. It was her innate need to maintain her safety (and now, Darim's) that kept her from reaching out to anyone but she had someone to count on now. Ilias used his free hand to touch his fingertips to his chest and promised, "I am here for you."

"Because of Altaïr's orders?" she asked with a dull tone because she often wondered if he stayed by her side for her sake or Altaïr's. The two were longtime friends and that loyalty could have him waving goodbye to her once he returned. She agreed that Altaïr deserved every lost minute with their son but he wasn't the one she wanted beside her.

Ilias blinked with surprise because his orders hadn't risen since their first week together and he stated openly, "No, I'm here because I want to be. Otherwise, I would not be holding another man's child."

Maria's azure gaze met his brown hue to the sincerity of his words and her thinned lips broke into a warm smile. He would stand by her side through thick and thin then? She wrung the wet diaper between her hands as she cast aside her defensive warrior shield for the fretful new mother that she was and asked tentatively, "Even when Altaïr returns?"

He paused for a moment because they had naturally settled into a camaraderie revolving around Darim. The infant boy kept binding them through the weeks and although he didn't know what Altaïr would ask of Maria when he returned, she'd admitted that she held no inkling to be with him. All he could do to maintain a safety net with her that wouldn't risk disloyalty to either party was to state simply, "Only if you ask it of me."

"I do" she replied swiftly without hesitation and grabbed another article of soiled clothing from the basket. Dipping it into the cold river, her smile widened to the simple words that he'd uttered to brighten her day and she spoke with feminine delight in her voice, "I've never been surer of anything."

"Aga-goo!" Darim chirped sweetly at having his two favorite people beside him and waved his little hands with joy.

* * *

A few days after the boat captains declared cyclone season over, Altaïr burst into Vivian's room unannounced with loud and thunderous steps. The wild grin he wore on his usually frowning face would've given immediate heart attacks. She had absolutely no idea what had happened and hoped nobody had been stabbed along the way. Thankfully, it was just an update that had lifted his spirits as he declared with relieved joy, "I chartered the trip. We leave in two days!"

Their small idyllic life on the coast of Mozambique had come to an end and it was time to continue onwards.

"Get ready for a lack of bathing, rationed food, and flooring as a bed" Vivian murmured lethargically for their new adventure and wondered how Malik would react when he returned home from work. Being accustomed to a sedentary life after becoming a dai, his disguise in Quelimane had become natural for him and he fit perfectly into his character. Neither of them wanted to relinquish that for the harshness of the outside world but saving the world took priority.

"Quiet, we're finally leaving the land of fish!" Altaïr hushed with a motherly nag that caused her to smile but it faltered as she watched him strut around happily. In another situation, she would've been grinning madly to practically see him prancing from joy but this was a bittersweet moment. She knew what awaited her at the end of the Madagascar road and dreaded walking down that path. It was only natural, right? Her life had become ideal for the first time since living in his time and she feared disturbing that illusion. He caught the apprehensive look on her face because she wasn't joining in his celebration and asked slowly, "What is it?"

Her shoulders slumped as their lives in Quelimane had been wonderfully pleasant without danger and she'd fallen into a routine where life was normal. She wasn't ready to give that up for the harsh world outside of the town and what awaited her. She crossed her arms to compensate for the aching dullness settling into her chest and admitted sullenly, "I grew to love our time here, there was no danger and we've all become family. I . . . if Isis was correct and this next location can be my trip home . . . I wanted to add a few days before I lose all of this. I want to go home but the thought of waking up without seeing Malik with his books or you preparing a catch . . . it is going to be excruciating for me."

Her brow furrowed as her feelings struggled in an internal maelstrom and she confided with uncertainty, "I should be happy to leave here to return home but the friendships I've formed here . . . I don't want them to be dreams. I know life will be safer on the other side but part of me craves this life for the memories alone. I. . ."

Her voice trailed off as it trembled to echo her fears about returning home and losing them in the process. There was no win-win situation and she tried to calm her breathing as she admitted weakly, "I'm scared and torn about all of this. Everything is so confusing again . . . I'm not ready to face it."

He closed the door to maintain privacy and drew her by the arms to hug her close. Her fingertips clutched his shoulder blades with an unvoiced need for support and Altaïr used one hand to rub circles over her back. The other cradled her head to lend the same sympathy she offered when he was at his lowest and Vivian drew strength from it. She didn't want to lose her grumpy assassin when he'd become a dear friend and huddled closer to bask against him like a kitten.

"We still have a few days here" he reminded helpfully but her crestfallen expression slapped him in the face with reminder that she was destined to leave them at one point. He hated feeling selfish but he wanted her to stay with them because she had become a part of their life- _his_ life, more importantly. He'd never been much for displaying affection but she stirred a painful twinge inside him every time her face crinkled with sadness. It was an expression that she should never wear and he held her tightly to assure everything would be fine. She deserved to go home to her loved ones since her existence wasn't voluntary and he could only offer comfort. Speaking his mind on the matter wouldn't help either of them because he wasn't a neutral party but suggested gently, "We can go on that small boat trip around the sea, for old time's sake."

Her fingers dug into the soft tunic he wore, knowing that gesture would soon fade as well, and she agreed gingerly, "That . . . would be splendid."

"There aren't predators about out there if I happen to fall out?" he asked for added security because being mauled was not going to make his day better. He cared for Vivian but he wouldn't die for her unless he needed to in a tense situation. Sharks were definitely not on that list unless they were heading towards her. She chuckled fondly, assuring she'd keep him safe from the big bad ocean. Now that brought a smile to his face since she could hardly lift him when he was dead asleep.

Her hands moved from his shoulders to settle on his forearms and she murmured faintly, "I'm going to miss you. You've become more than what I originally thought of you before I landed here."

She wouldn't delve deeper than that because a Band-Aid held the growing fracture on the dam holding back her feelings and squeezed his arms. He was going to make a lot of people proud, whether they acknowledged it or not, and he'd always be her hero. How could he not after being rescued from sticky situations? Not to mention, surviving from all the sassy remarks she spouted during their early weeks. Her brow furrowed at the painful thought of never hearing, seeing, and touching him again. She said nothing when his lips descended onto hers, embracing him close and Altaïr relished that she didn't downright refuse him. He kept the kiss fairly innocent but when he tried to sneak past her teeth, she broke away and stated, "I told you-"

"Would you rather leave here knowing the truth or guessing what could've been-" he interrupted as he encircled her hips with his arms to keep her from running off and she closed her eyes with a small frown. He was not letting her escape this easily after yearning to squeeze in another private moment with her. She stiffened in his grasp as he pulled her close and he tried again, "Vivian-"

"The 'could've been's' are the ones that'll ruin you" she pointed out worriedly because she wanted him to live a long productive life of Templar ass kicking. Moving him even an inch from his path could have serious repercussions and she needed him to understand that. He was insistent on creating his own path where his word was law but she couldn't make him see that she couldn't be included in that. If she was, everything would crumble and his future could be thrown into chaos.

His nose brushed against hers in a sensual touch to lessen her fussing and he stated matter-of-factly, "Stupid choices can sometimes be the best. I wasn't going to bring you on this trip, remember?"

She aimed a deadpan stare for his example of choice and replied dryly with sharp wit, "And do you see how _that_ ended up? That's not the strongest argument for you at this moment."

He smirked with amusement to her fussy tone as he shot back he wasn't complaining about their current predicament and her features smoothed to return a fond smile. Why did his words have an immediate therapeutic waterfall effect on her? Her fingers trailed over the edges of his lowered gray hood (there really were times he resembled a turtle more than an eagle) and he trailed kisses along her jawline before nipping down the side of her neck. He found success in luring a kiss from his historian when he added the third to her throat and she cupped his face in her hands to return it wholeheartedly. With Vivian, he realized, the first move had to be initiated on his part for reciprocation and hoped his awkward trial-and-error method worked. He found it easier when women reached out for a kiss (a complete reversal of tradition) because then, he wouldn't second guess himself.

"It's easy to take the wrong choice but it takes strength to do the right" she whispered faintly as she grasped the front of his robes and closed her eyes for a moment. Her contemplation clearly told him she was ready to reject him once more but he wasn't going to allow it. The original right choice of his life had twisted into the wrong road as time passed and he'd found a deeper connection with the one standing before him. He tried to meet her lips to wipe away those bothersome thoughts but a shift in the angle of her head stopped him as she objected firmly, "I can't blur those lines-"

"For all you know, your presence could be the right choice that could lend an advantage" he put forward since the woman constantly saw herself as the trespasser and tried to keep him at bay. They felt strongly for one another so it wasn't unrequited but that little badger was stubbornly righteous- always had been (a trait he admired). He tried to shift the negative perspective into a positive and reasoned with the hardheaded historian, "Have you ever thought that maybe you were placed here to change something in this era that didn't fit into the entire original puzzle? Maybe changing the picture is their idea! If they can see and alter time at their fingertips, what is to stop them from altering what they've already discovered? For all we know, we fail and this is their redo of history."

"I will not be a Sue demon! I . . . I. . ." she snapped outrageously to the heinous thought of altering events but faltered at a comeback. She didn't know anything concrete on those beings and making assumptions could be costly due to the lack of evidence. She couldn't impose that she was correct but at the same time, couldn't believe Altaïr's theory either. She placed her fingers on her temples as numerous questions flooded her mind and didn't want to acknowledge those that arose from his reasoning.

"There are facts from your world that never came to pass here so you should not yield a strong grip on those beliefs" he justified sharply and she gaped as he brought that pivotal point to surface. Yes, there were certain things that had been altered but that didn't mean that his path wouldn't follow 'digital' Altaïr's. She was adamant to stick to what she'd seen because the majority of the timeline was intact. If Malik hated his guts, Maria was still his enemy, Al Mualim ran off with the Apple, and Altaïr remained arrogant- _then_ she would've cast the timeline aside. He wasn't letting her slide with her logic because he wanted her in his arms and stated, "Those beings hold powers that neither of us can comprehend and we can only trust in each other to find a way to build a better future."

"A future for the assassins would mean walking _that_ road" she disagreed because having Desmond find the Apple was the key to everything in the franchise, even though she didn't know what it was for. For all she knew, he'd become a badass assassin to match his ancestors and be the next Luke Skywalker for the order. She'd been gone from her time for such a long period that she didn't know what had happened after the second game and the novel based on Altaïr's life. Oh, she cursed herself for reading that blasted thing!

"They are already fractured and if I can gather those fractured pieces to prevent it here, right now, I will" he argued her logic because he could take preventative steps to make a better world for them. She'd arrived in his world for unknown reasons and he couldn't find a better one than weaving together a new improved one for their order. For a woman that often thought outside of the box, she was rooting herself inside the box with a blindfold on! He wanted to shake her madly until common sense returned to that sharp mind of hers and sighed exasperatedly, "Vivian, why must you make this difficult-"

"Because I'm scared that I'm ruining your future with each word" she replied frankly because he needed to be lamenting over Maria, not her. Why couldn't the ex-Templar have been in Masyaf and come along for the trip when they left? It would've been so much easier to ignore him and he would've had googly eyes only for her. She wanted to smack him over the head repeatedly for his stubbornness and growled with annoyance, "I wish you would just listen and stop trying to break apart my words with your own logic."

And just like that, Altaïr realized they were both enraged goats butting into the same wall on opposite sides.

"Are you as attracted to me as I am to you at this moment?" he inquired to cut straight through their impending argument by disclosing his thoughts at the most inopportune time. Her mouth gaped like a fish's to his bold comment and a myriad of emotion flashed through her face- anger, embarrassment, coyness, and surprisingly. . . acceptance. He closed the distance between them to loom over her and he remarked suavely, "I do enjoy a challenge and stubborn historians have never been added to my list of accomplishments."

She wasn't ready to twist her head around his idea because her way of doing things meant a second baby would be ensured instead of one. For all she knew, he and Maria would pop out a bunch kids but they wouldn't survive childhood due to disease. Her best offense was to avoid everything but he was imperviously insistent. Why couldn't he just admit defeat in this? Every attempt she tried to dissuade him failed and she was forced to relinquish control to pacify him. She flicked her thumb towards the bed to pent out their frustrations and proposed with an airy sigh, "I'll give you five minutes on the bed. No inappropriate touching."

"And you called me cold and indifferent once" he stated curtly since he found the offer a bit insulting after building his true feelings for her. She was a fortress trying to protect his future but he wanted to break free for just a moment to see if the grass was brighter on the other side. He knew what he wanted but Vivian refused to give leeway for her own affection, choosing to ignore the truth. He shook his head to her detached choice for affection and reminded coldly, "Attraction is very different from connection, Vivian. You're afraid of the latter but there is no reason to be when I hold the same affection for you. Just as you offer me five minutes, break from those logical shackles just like you did a minute ago and show me what you hide."

She shook her head to the idea of forfeiting her entire heart to place it on a figurative platter for him to see. If she did, there would be no place for her to hide when he confronted her about their sentiments. He walked to the bed with an allure that caused her inner Vivian to burst into subatomic particles and raised his hand to state, "I have protected, taught, fought, and trusted you for over a year. Offer me the same courtesy, you have nothing to fear."

"For five minutes, you sure are milking it" she murmured softly as lowering her emotional shield was the equivalence of running naked through town. Didn't he know what kind of floodgate he was opening? His narrowed gaze carried annoyance and dejection to her response but she apologized quickly with sincerity for the sarcastic defense that served as her last shield. Lying, silence, sarcasm, and evasion were gone as he exhausted all of them. Gazing down at her current ensemble, she realized her Zevran outfit was still on and made her decision. She was allowing five minutes of bliss into her life (not that he needed to know that) and nodded agreeably, "Good, I have pants on."

Altaïr was barely able to ask why when she launched herself into his arms on all fours like a rabid koala to match his height and he caught her by the waist to bear the sudden weight. Unfortunately, his brain didn't get the memo about keeping said balance and she used her momentum to push him backwards onto the bed. It was safe to say she'd surprised him entirely as she hovered above him on the bed while his legs dangled off the edges. He forgot that she could be quite daring in private as she was in public and was left speechless for a few seconds. She took advantage of his initial shock to trace her hand through his hair (which needed a haircut soon) and smiled with amusement, "Ladies can't do that fashionably with skirts. Well, maybe the Disney jump-in-your-arms-gently-and-hug-sappily version."

"Five minute rule enacted: no future jargon" he ordered quickly to avoid any communication mistakes and scooted up on the bed to be comfortable, not liking lying horizontally. Vivian kneeled on the spot she landed and eyed him carefully to see whether he was enacting another rule or deciding to forfeit her offer. She wasn't going to the gambling table all in without seeing the same commitment from her opponent- er, partner. He pulled her close by the hand to reassure he wasn't leaving and pressed his nose against her cheek, "You can lead."

She raised an eyebrow to this because he was the first to dive in for a kiss while she ran away like a chicken with its head cut off. What brought this on? She shook her head and leaned down to kiss the center of brow before lying down next to him like a faithful feline. They'd never laid together in an innocent fashion to relax as their tendencies to argue about their feelings usually lead to a kissing session. For once, she wanted to experience the calming mood of that affection and draped an arm over his chest to remain comfy. His left hand weaved into her loose hair to brush through the raven locks as he gazed down at her to admit openly, "I'm awkwardly inexperienced at charming women and I'm still grasping the basics from kissing to. . .other."

Vivian tried not to blush at that part and he laid out his past like an open book, "My previous experiences have always been more physical than talkative. It shouldn't be much of a surprise given my personality. My actions always speak for me but in our case, there isn't agreement on your part and I resort to my least favored forms of communication- talking."

"You hate talking" she chuckled softly with an empathetic smile and leaned over to offer a light kiss on his lips. He didn't push forward for anything more to maintain respect but he mumbled out an agreement. He did, however, lower her hood to comb his fingers through her unruly hair to style it in his own manner. The pad of her thumb grazed the bottom of his chin as she met his gaze without bashfulness and admitted, "I can see why you've been vocal with me about this but although experience is gained, instinct hasn't gone wrong with our species because here we are. And I . . . will show you, my perceptive eagle."

She grasped his face to meet his lips for a gentle kiss to test his comfort zone, lightly nipping his top lip before wedging hers between both of his. It was a sweet token that she'd wanted to give every time he sought her but wasn't able to. She would fall in love with him in a heartbeat if she could but fate ordered her not to. She chuckled softly when he murmured in between their kiss with halfhearted distaste as he focused entirely on her, "Definitely hate talking."

Five minutes came and went as they threw out the count with each playful jab leading elsewhere. Whenever she poked his ego with innocent humor, he led their dance by stirring laughter from the witty badger. By the ten minute marker, Vivian laid underneath him with both legs entangled around his right to balance their height differences while he draped over her and a pillow for comfort. His left arm and head rested on the pillow for the moment while she held his right with both hands. She kept his arm from delving to her left side since it held one of nature's weak points and chuckled nervously, "Five minute rule: ticklish areas are off limits."

He stilled from attempting a sneak attack on her ticklish sides and compromised with a soft kiss to the nape of her neck. Vivian toes curled instinctively to the sensation as she whimpered contently and he smiled to her peaceful expression. Her fingers trailed over the infamous scar on his lips as he withdrew from her and she smiled to modify her rule, "Five minute rule: previous rule is exempt if the other party admits his own."

He shook his head and her playful smile widened to the idea of finding a ticklish spot on the famous assassin. Altaïr, however, squashed her hopes when he clarified that he really didn't and proceeded to scratch his left side to prove it. Her body went flax in disappointment as she became the poster child for the stereotypical commoner to his invulnerability. She puckered her bottom lip comically as she became a tiny ant once more and sighed pitifully, "I forget you're physically perfect- well, minus the left ring finger. Still, that single mighty finger had a lot more talent than all of me."

"Five minute rule: those missing appendages earn two extra minutes" he stated quickly to seize their private moment for all it was worth and drew her close for an open mouth kiss. One hand brushed along his cheek while the other intertwined their fingers and he decided that whether he was an awful kisser or not, he was comfortable being the man he was. The lack of emotional conversation but meaningful action sufficed and with Vivian's emotional fortress, it suited both parties. He enjoyed her short gentle nips on his lips between kisses and whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, he had made his choice of her quite a while ago.

Her eyes opened to focus on their linked hands, emphasizing on his missing ring finger, and she asked softly, "How did you bear losing it? It could've become infected or given you nerve damage-"

"You sacrifice many things for the greater good" he stated quietly but it was the type of pain he didn't want to undergo ever again in his life. He explained the proudest moment of his young life as he was full of promise (and bravado) but locked away any fear or nervousness that day. Weakness would not be tolerated by his personality nor did he want to appear as a disappointment to Al Mualim. Some students whimpered, others cried or yelled out, but he merely thinned his lips and bit down hard on his bottom lip to disassociate the pain. True, it bled similarly to the new gaping wound on his hand but he'd stood upright that day. His gaze briefly left hers as he locked away his assassin personality once more and contemplated, "It is not an experience I would want to relive but what can I do for younger generations?"

"Find a way to change old unneeded traditions? Alternatives?" she suggested gently as she avoided telling him outright about changing the rules of society within their order. He had already begun working with Malik to change the hidden blade to prevent self-mutilation for the sake of commitment and they were heading in a good direction. His face shifted in uncertainty due to their old ways but she kissed the bottom of his chin to reassure, "You'll find an answer, I know you will. Despite the assassin life being all you've ever known, you are a brilliant man and can achieve anything you set your mind to. I've seen what you're capable of here and in my own realm. Don't doubt yourself for a single second."

Altaïr was never one to speak about his successes or qualities publicly but privately, it was a different story. Vivian's toes curled to the passionate kiss he delivered and she returned the same gusto as she embraced him tightly. Her fingers buried into his silky hair as she grasped his brown locks to continue their tongue tango and felt the same need on his end when he drew her closer by the shoulders. She could easily become lost in their passion induced haze but she managed to pry herself away for a second to remind, "You have enough practice, eagle man. Otherwise, you'll be heading towards a world's best record and you hold too many already."

"Why do you keep evading me, little falcon?" he whispered faintly as he delivered chaste kisses over her lips and gripped her by the waist to keep her close. She attempted to draw him into a kiss to avoid the topic altogether but he copied one of her moves by angling his head. He wasn't letting her escape that answer so easily because he knew now just how much she desired him. A coy blush and tightlipped kiss was nothing compared to the open mouth kisses and exploratory hands that Vivian unleashed as she became quite the animated lover.

"I'm a badger, remember?" she scoffed with a cheeky smile since the animal had become endearingly fitting to her. No other made sense in her mind after a year of being called that fluff ball of doom and it was _his_ name for her. She wouldn't dream of being anything else and reminded him with a lecturing wag of her finger, "Feisty and witty to the end?"

"For now" he smirked with a secret twinkle in his eyes that caused hers to narrow in suspicion. Oh no, she was staying as the badger for a long time and nobody would take that title from her. He chuckled to her ruffled appearance as she'd grown shrewdly perceptive over the year and jested with a small grin, "Hmm, you really are a badger."

She laughed to his comment and embraced him close, relishing that private moment of freedom between them. The stress from keeping everything bottled up had lowered as they basked in their hidden affection temporarily. Even if she had to keep him at bay forcefully afterwards, she agreed that his idea helped to do so. It was easier to taste the forbidden fruit and cast it aside than scratching her brain without ever trying it. He dotted kisses along her cheek to lure another kiss from her end and teased her about luring grumpy eagles to her amorous burrow. Vivian replied that the eagle was more than welcome to leave but that only fueled him further to deepen their kiss. He wasn't about to let her escape his clutches that easily but Vivian put a stop to it a minute later.

"We have to stop, our invisible timer ran out more than fifteen minutes ago" she informed quietly with an apologetic look and traced a finger down the start of his nose to his cupid's bow. He tried to divert extra time by diving in for another kiss but Vivian moved her head to the side, giving him a face full of hair in rebuttal. His groan of complaint brought her laughter as she combed her hair away before he ingested any of it and kissed his cheek in restitution, chuckling that hair wasn't evil. Her fingers ran through his brown hair to gently scratch his scalp in affection as she mused playfully, "I think you'd look quite handsome with long luxurious hair-"

"I'm not an Italian bachelor" he interrupted with a disgusted grimace to the idea because he'd resemble the man if he did. If she was trying to say that his descendant was handsomer, he was going to keep her in the room for more than an hour. He was born a Syrian man and he'd die looking like a handsome Syrian man. She laughed to his apparent distaste (oh, if only she could show him how similar they appeared) and scooted to the left so she could sit up and call their five- more like ten- minute session over. His left hand grasped her right to keep her from leaving hastily without a glance back and he asked tentatively, "If I wasn't the hero in this tale and my future was uncertain, would you have chosen me?"

She squeezed his hand between both of hers to comfort him before planting a soft kiss on his lips. Her gaze softened as she gazed at the handsome man she could've called hers had he been born a different person and smiled coyly, "In a heartbeat . . . and I would've rocked your world."

He blinked to the latter jargon as she hid her feelings within her vocabulary and she sighed with feigned solemnity, "Another joke lost to the wind. Our spawn would've shamed the world with awful humor meant for another time, you know. Alas, I am not meant to canoodle with an assassin's noodle."

For the first time, he understood her euphemism perfectly and cleared his throat awkwardly to the, um, _very_ tempting idea. Vivian's face reddened when she caught the quiet shift in expression because he had been awful at deciphering her jokes up until now. Leave it to her rotten luck that he would nab his first one in such close quarters with her. Her fingers left his to wring together to the sudden snafu she'd fallen into and she asked nervously, "You, uh, understood that one, didn't you?"

"It's hard not to, Vivian . . . because I would let you canoodle" he answered truthfully in regards to her offhanded joke and he smiled when a girlish squeak left her throat. When the tips of her ears reddened at realizing he was not kidding in the slightest, Vivian decided to use the neck of her own tunic to pull it over her head to resemble a quivering turtle. Was it possible to burst out of existence at that very moment? How was she supposed to react to _that_ kind of reply? Altaïr pulled the tunic back down to its original position to reveal a flustered red faced Vivian as she managed a weak smile to her shabby escape attempt.

There were times he didn't know whether coy Vivian or feisty Vivian lured him the most with her endearing antics. He drew her into an embrace as she murmured that he was pulling her away from her invisible burrow for amorous 'snu-snu' (whatever that was) and he chuckled softly to her feigned frown. He buried his nose against the crook of her neck to inhale her familiar scent and felt her fingertips gently scrape down the back of his own. The sensation was wonderful as a shiver trailed down his spine and he squeezed her tightly to mumble against her skin, "You tantalizing little badger."

Vivian wished her earnest that her counterpart would be waiting in her own time because the passing days kept making Altaïr that choice. He was her opposite in personality but their core beliefs were the same and that allure only increased. Her days began and ended with him so there was no way for her to work around that- if she did, he followed.

"I don't regret bringing you on this journey but I will returning you home" he stated softly and lavished her with one last kiss to leave her breathless. If this was to be his last kiss of the week, he would make it one worthy for the long road ahead. His ears and pride were delighted to hear the lightest groan as she held onto his hand (feeling a tighter grip) and he ended their kiss. He heard her mumble that he had a way with words, among other things, and he mused, "Your nagging might have rubbed off but I won't be speaking the same way with anybody else."

"True, you're nitpicky when it comes to socializing" she grinned cheekily to his natural frown towards others and his tendency to isolate himself like a hermit crab. Instead of fussing about the fact, he offered a carefree grin as he basked in it and Vivian erupted in laughter to the rare sight. When had he ever smirked like a proud peacock for being deemed socially awkward?

"I have you, why would I need anybody else?" he pointed out with a confident smirk and she shook her head with amusement to his private personality. Altaïr could care less about what strangers thought of him but he'd definitely try to socialize more with his fellow assassins. He wished to have Vivian in his life because she would've helped figure out conversation starters for him that didn't begin with 'how's the weather?' or anything else as appalling. Vivian tried her best not to imitate the Pillsbury doughboy at that delightful comment and heard him mutter in afterthought, "All right, you and Malik but that's where I draw the limit."

She released his hand with a warm chuckle to leave the bed and Altaïr restrained from pouting at ending their private moment. Was it possible to kick destiny in the rear end? Vivian scuttled off to find the nearest outer robe she could slap on over her current outfit to maintain a respectful feminine appearance in public. He watched the wardrobe change with curiosity as she quickly styled her hair into a low ponytail under her hood to appear presentable. Each little action would have to be remembered because in the end, memories would be all that he'd be left with. She beckoned him with her hand to get their show on the road and smiled cheerfully, "Let's go on that boat ride. We can race across the beach to see who can row the farthest and the winner gets a free supper."

"Why, Vivian, thank you for offering" he smirked smugly since his endurance outmatched hers and she stepped over his left foot as she headed for the bedroom door. His toes throbbed to the sudden weight but it was nothing compared to other injuries and he scoffed to her petty attack, "A sore toe won't stop me, woman."

"Vivian Shore is no quitter either" she shot back playfully and held the door open to apologize for stepping over his foot. As feisty as she could be, she would never be rude unless it was called for. Altaïr merely flicked her right ear with his fingers as he passed by and she gently poked the center of his back in return. Closing the door, Altaïr sighed mentally in lament that he wouldn't be returning there to bathe his little partner in kisses. Their days were numbered now and had to cherish each one before reaching Madagascar.

* * *

Vivian had expected the end of the wet season to bring the least storms but one tropical storm burst in three days before their departure. The entire port was drenched in rain from dawn until dusk as the last storm of the season bared over them with its hardest strikes. Altaïr had never been a fan of thunder but the loud clashes in the sky unnerved him as the ones from Lake Victoria paled in comparison. He and Vivian resembled wary cats the whole time since the wooden roof had shaken every once in a while under the storm's strength. The first hours had gone by smoothly as they helped with indoor chores or read under the dim light that peered in through the cracks. Once the sun set above the thick cloud cover, Altaïr paced relentlessly around the first floor until Malik ordered him to sit down to calm his restlessness.

Not being accustomed to a sedentary lifestyle, Altaïr tried to lure the dai into a game of checkers that he'd crafted from Vivian's descriptions. During their days in camp, she had taught him the game and he found it enjoyable to wind down. He had kept pushing the wooden board nonchalantly towards his friend but Malik had become invested in filling small metal bottles with black ink for the trip ahead. Between all three of them, they wasted more than three bottles a month from all of their journal writings. Malik was certain they would have an encyclopedia of handwritten books by the end of their journey-

"Would you control yourself?" he intervened when Altaïr's wooden checker board nudged his hand and almost spilled his ink. He was almost tempted to splash the entire board in black ink but he wasn't that cruel to ruin his friend's game. Altaïr had a tendency to wear people down to do what he wanted but Malik was not the type to break. The assassin scowled as he was rejected for the fifth time and slumped in his seat, pushing away his small checkerboard in distaste. Malik paid him no attention because he knew the man would grab it again within two minutes and lectured, "Don't resemble a child, Altaïr. You're twenty-eight years old, not five."

Altaïr left the table to simmer down his annoyance because it was his own restlessness that stirred his emotions. Malik muttered under his breath that he'd play a game after he finished his task to comfort his friend since he wasn't that cruel to ignore him. The caged assassin pocketed the reminder and made his way to the last member of their group as she fiddled with a silver necklace. One of the little emerald stones had fallen off the round pendant and Vivian was trying her best to glue it back next to the candlelight. It was the only trinket to follow her and with it being an heirloom, she wasn't going to risk losing anything belonging to her deceased mother. The tip of her tongue stuck out comically from the side of her lips as she pressed the round flat stone against the silver metal and her eyes were narrowed to match her concentration.

"Vivian, I'm bored" he muttered despondently as he plopped down across from her and almost blew out the candle's flame from the force. Her green eyes opened to their fullest as he snapped her out of her task and deadpanned to his words. How many times had he done this over the past year? When Malik denied him of his wishes, he always slinked back to her to try his luck once more. Whether it was for food, leisure, or ranting, she was his rock for comfort.

She was tempted to try Malik's tactic but the part that held fondness for him demanded to comfort the flustered eagle. Besides, he was there to seek support from her and she would abide him. Placing her necklace on the table to dry the glue, she raised an eyebrow and asked softly with light amusement, "And how am I to help?"

Vivian realized early on that Altaïr wasn't one to verbalize his needs unless they were in private and guessing was half the battle with him. When he eyed the wooden checkerboard that he'd discarded, Vivian withheld a sigh of disbelief and amusement to his grumpy nature. She decided to take the direct attempt this time rather than pacify him by enabling him further and asked gently, "Altaïr, why couldn't you just ask me? I don't bite."

"I'm . . . not used to asking . . . and I can't demand without sounding imposing" he stated uncertainly to the root of his tendency to tiptoe around his wants and pretended to be fascinated with a stain. If that wasn't a perfect textbook example of avoidance behavior, Vivian didn't know what was. He could order around his assassins due to his higher rank but when it came to being a normal man without the assassin affiliation attached, his demeanor shifted. He didn't want to be cold or arrogant in his social interactions and quietly admitted, "I demanded a lot from you last year and my assassins for even longer- I don't want to return to that. I'd rather have you fuss and tell me whether I'm right or wrong than sound condescending."

She smiled to his confession because he wasn't rude to her in the slightest and encouraged gently, "Just ask with a calm voice and you'll have an answer. There's nothing wrong with asking and if you keep tiptoeing around everything when it doesn't concern your profession, we'll be at this guessing game for hours."

Malik sighed from behind them to the toughest puzzle in the past year and groaned, "Ugh, that dreadful sock incident. All you had to do was ask and it would've spared us two hours from figuring out you needed socks."

"And have Vivian mad at me?" Altaïr shot back since Vivian made his socks by hand and he appreciated that kindness. Losing them had been embarrassing enough but asking her to find them for him was mortifying because he hadn't wanted to upset her. It would've been rude to ask her to find something she'd made for him.

Malik was one hand away from face palming at his logic and pointed out with emphasis, "_I_ was mad at you by the end of it all."

"But that's an everyday occurrence" Altaïr reasoned offhandedly and Malik resisted from chucking his ink bottle at the man's head. No, the ink was worth more and he could find something else that was cheaper to do so later at night. Vivian couldn't help but laugh to their banter and the sound deafened the high winds banging against the small inn. She missed spending relaxed days like this as their lives in Quelimane took away the long hours they'd normally had together while traveling. The brotherly banter between the two always brought a smile to her face and their separate lives in the town had decreased much of their daily interaction.

"Give me the board and I'll play with you, you awkward little eagle" she chuckled softly to make him happy and keep his focus away from the storm. He'd already yelped once in surprise when a bolt of lightning had illuminated the inn so she needed him occupied. Otherwise, he'd drive Malik insane and they couldn't have that.

Altaïr tried to downplay her comment with an indifferent expression but he treasured the warmth in her voice with it. His fingertips briefly brushed against hers purposely as he stood up and left to retrieve his handmade checkerboard. Vivian tried to keep her cheeks from betraying her and smiled into her hands as she pretended to warm them.

* * *

The rain had slowly decreased but the high winds followed into the night as they screamed against the tightly locked inn. Supper had been small but the trio kept themselves entertained with Altaïr's checkerboard as they decided to make a tournament out of it. The master assassin was eliminated first and became the unofficial commentator whenever Vivian and Malik made a move. Most of the time, however, he just stated what the one losing pieces should've done. This quickly led to him having said pieces flung at him in protest by both. He had expected Vivian to win since she had been the one to introduce the game to them but when Malik eliminated her, he'd been ready to cry blasphemy. Vivian, however, had merely cooed that her student had become a master and applauded her friend for winning.

The lack of people wandering the town and the cold settling in from the storm sent everyone scrambling to bed earlier than usual. Altaïr, however, remained downstairs to master the game of checkers because he absolutely hated being ranked number three. Malik and Vivian had gone to bed for an hour before he grew tired of playing alone because it held no challenge. He had folded his checkerboard to prevent losing the pieces and headed upstairs with a candle in hand to quietly grab a book from his bedroom. Unlike Malik, it took him quite a while to fall asleep due to the normal stress in his life and often read to lull him into it.

He had barely stepped onto the second floor of the inn when he heard loud banging and flinched to the sharp echoing sound. Normally, he would let that resolve itself because carrying a candle and a hidden blade didn't fill him with enough confidence. When the noise continued, he pinpointed the origin from a particular room that housed a certain little historian and his protectiveness shoved his apprehension aside. Uncertain or not, he had to check on Vivian! What if someone had burst into her room undetected? What if an animal had crawled in? What if she'd fallen and couldn't get up- wait, that one made no sense whatsoever.

Knocking on the door, he hoped she would answer before anyone awoke from the noise. The howling wind bearing down on them, however, made it a bit unlikely since the cold weather made anyone sleepy. He wouldn't have paid it any mind if he hadn't heard the underlying banging noise and just as he was ready to bash in her door, it opened. Instead of meeting a frightened Vivian, her face showed calm relief to see him as her wavy hair had puffed to resemble wool around her head while her sleeping tunic hung off one slender shoulder. She pulled him inside by the arm with haste before the noise woke anyone and sighed to ramble worriedly, "The window burst open while I was sleeping and I'm having one hell of a time closing it."

The open window held two wooden panes that closed it against the elements with a wooden latch over both. Unfortunately, the strong wind had rattled against the wood until the latch popped open and gusts of cold air had spilled into the small room. Vivian had been trying her best to shut the panes but when she managed to pin one down, the other was a struggle. She couldn't do it alone, especially with her short arm span, and thanked her lucky stars that one of her friends had come to help.

Altaïr didn't waste any time in pushing back one of the panes (after placing his handy candle somewhere safe) and Vivian took care of the other as she shifted her weight against her shoulder. Living in Berkeley, she'd never expected storms like this since regular downpours or thunderstorms were the common occurrence. This is why she avoided traveling near Florida or hurricane-prone areas for fear of her safety but it seemed life alongside Altaïr brought a thunderstorm of danger. The two slid the panes back against the windowsill as the wind screamed against the wood and Altaïr quickly bolted it down with the latch to lock it into place. Vivian quickly handed him a leather tie that she had retrieved from her drawers before his arrival and Altaïr wrapped it around the prongs holding the latch in place.

She could only watch his strength outmatch hers as he managed to lock the window in less than two minutes while she'd been struggling for five. Her breath was heavy and erratic from the cold that had seeped into her skin from trying to close either pane without any avail. She'd been having such a good dream about her days working in the museum back home until the loud banging woke her. Altaïr leaned against the window to make sure it wouldn't pop open unexpectedly and looked to Vivian to assess her safety.

"Thank you for helping me" she shivered with chattering teeth from the lingering cold and rubbed her arms to bring back warmth. Vivian grabbed the nearest blanket at the end of her bed to wrap around it around herself as every bone in her body shook. Jumping out of bed like a jackrabbit had not been the best idea and now she felt like a wet cat left out in the rain. Altaïr had to rub his hands to bring back lost body heat and grasped her shoulders to make sure she was all right. The night would endure high winds and he didn't want to return to find her as a frozen statue. He didn't want her catching her death from that gusty wind with sprinkling rain but she assured with chattering teeth, "I-I-I'll be okay."

"You aren't very convincing" he stated dryly to her shivering and she chuckled softly while rubbing warmth into her arms. She grabbed the small candle lantern that she'd placed on the table beside the window to place it on a stool next to her bed for better lighting. The 12th century had worst lighting than the 19th century and Vivian could safely say nighttime was her least favorite time. She placed her cold hands over the glass and reminded herself to check the docks every day for merchants that sold kerosene lamps from the Middle East. Altaïr shook his head from behind her as he watched her nonverbal behavior contradict her words and stated simply, "Don't be afraid to speak up your mind concerning fears or weaknesses. I won't judge you for needing help, Vivian."

"I . . . I don't want to be seen as weak" she murmured faintly about her faults in the field of strength because being needy was shameful in her book. He'd taught her to be self-sufficient and be strong in the face of danger but there were many obstacles against her. She wasn't strong due to her size, agility could only take her so far, and she'd tried to tackle things head-on to show herself she had a chance. Her fingers curled around the blanket as she admitted openly, "You're a man I respect and needing constant vigilance is not the way to earn it. If anything, I'll hinder your concentration and become a burden. A man like you needs someone by his side that he can depend on in all aspects, not someone that needs rescue-"

"I have no problem being needed" Altaïr answered easily to wipe away her insecurities and brushed back tendrils of hair behind her ear. She had become a common part of his life for the past year and he wouldn't part with her for anything in the world. The only time he considered her a burden were during their first weeks together but even then, it was more of his own making than hers. He grasped her blanket covered shoulders to squeeze them in support and whispered gently, "You've proven yourself to me time after time and I will provide strength where you can't. All you have to do is ask, Vivian."

She smiled with gratitude for his generosity but on the inside, she was a bashful flower for requiring aid when they were in a safe town. It was impossible to be Wonder Woman but Vivian liked to think she could pinch off a tiny dab now that she knew basic defense. Nonetheless, she considered him sweet for offering the rare calling card of an assassin at her beckon and murmured, "Thank you."

"It is no problem" he said softly since he wanted her safe by his side and cupped her cheek to admit, "I'd never let anything happen to you, never in a hundred years."

Her lips parted to speak but he leaned over to capture them with his own, enveloping her for a warm kiss that sent shivers down her spine. Their lips were cold from the air that had rushed in from the storm and it only increased the sensation with their varied temperatures. The warm tingling of his breath against her cold lips was marvelous and her thirst for heat conservation sought more. As alluring as he was, she didn't hesitate to voice when she pulled away to breathe into her lungs, "Alt-"

"Don't argue with me tonight, Vivian" he interrupted in a hushed whisper and although she wanted to push him away and send him back outside, she paused. Her respect for him never faltered and she cared for him like no other, protecting him even now with her blanket. After everything they'd endured, two sides were at conflict within her and the one that wanted to bask in affection was threatening to engulf rationality. It would've been far easier if he didn't feel any kind of attraction towards her so they could've maintained a platonic relationship. Instead, they were riding on a doomed ship over a tumultuous sea ready to strike an iceberg.

He didn't help matters any when he locked their gazes and requested quietly, "Agree and fall into this attraction of ours for once. Liberate yourself-"

"You're in my room in the middle of the night, I should be whacking you over the head-" she reasoned sharply but faltered when he kissed the start of her ear and he smiled in victory to hearing a defeated whimper. His little badger could fuss all she wanted but he knew she desired him just as much as he did her. She was quite the feisty being to admire as she stuck to her principles but he was winning the battle this time. Her emotions were her weakness and while she helped him to acknowledge his own rather than contain them- that would be her undoing. Vivian palms pressed against his chest in objection and she pointed out, "For impropriety, stubbornness, recklessness-"

"Trying to win your heart" he cut in matter-of-factly to run his lips down the side of her neck with small nips. Being shrewdly perceptive, he'd been able to find her most sensitive points within five minutes and would be exposing them to lure her his way.

Vivian, however, was a tough competitor as she angled her head to block his kisses and replied sternly, "With the wrong woman."

"_Right_ woman" he shot back to ensure any of her insecurities because she was the one he wanted. Maria hadn't sought emotional ties to him since she had her own missions to undertake and he'd respected her choice (mostly because she could snap his head if he didn't). Vivian, on the other hand, cared for him but removed herself as a possibility to protect him. Who said he couldn't protect both of them? He'd protect her until the end of time if she asked him to be with her- he'd give her anything her little heart desired.

"Wrecking your future" she cut across with an exasperated sigh to his stubbornness but her heart was slowly cracking to his words. He was nothing but persistent and although she could keep up with him during arguments, he was overwhelming her. Every word she uttered had a rebuttal and when he nipped the crook of her neck, her legs almost gave out. How the hell was he figuring out her sensitive points?

"Carving a better one" he replied easily with a confident grin because she'd given him an advantage on their journey. Without her, they would've been puzzled on translating foreign languages and she managed to sneak into places that assassins would've been spotted in. It wasn't every day an assassin sang their way into a Templar stronghold and lived. She had done everything asked of her without complaint and because of that, he couldn't help but adore her. He kissed her upper lip and she uttered a small whimper of regret as he broke through her reluctance. His right hand buried itself in her fluffy hair since she failed to brush it and quickly added in, "My life wouldn't be the same without you so don't contradict me."

She was ready to hiss at his attempt to be dominant but the sound died halfway in her throat. Any other woman would've flung herself at him from the minute he spoke but this time, it was the other way around. He had deflected all of her rejections and as she huddled against him in the cold, she admitted defeat. When he murmured against her ear that she would always be his badger, she replied weakly, "I will be forever cast as 'Dumbass of the 12th Century' for agreeing with you. A million AC fans will cry in horror and kill me if they ever find out."

"Vivian, just forget about the world for once and do as you want" he chuckled softly and watched her cheeks darken as she avoided his gaze. He didn't want her to be ashamed of her emotions because he certainly wasn't and doubted that would change. Her legs weakened when he nipped the top of her ear with a delicious graze of his tongue over her skin that left her a muffling mess of whimpers from that single move alone. Why was she having such a hard time forcing her body to shove him away? Vivian wanted to slap herself silly for being drawn every time he moved or uttered a single word. Curse those handsome genetics and natural prickliness of his! His voice tore through any lingering reluctance when he whispered with a velvety tone, "Give in to this temptation, you won't be disappointed."

"Temptations usually cause chaos in the end" she reminded since there were historic tales to point that out. It was an uphill battle that she had lost already but her honor demanded to fight to the bitter end. He was a compelling delegate and Vivian doubted she could win against a grand master at this hour of the night. She tried one last time before they did something regretful and pointed out, "Did you learn nothing about the siege of Troy because of that idiot Paris?"

"Vivian, all I ask is for one night with you" he requested quietly as he cradled her head in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She was a nervous wreck to the idea as her heart hammered away but when he kissed her . . . it faded away. Vivian wanted to believe there was nothing that could flourish from their attraction but each interaction kept forcing her to think otherwise. Each word from his lips was a droplet in a glass that was full to the brink of overflowing. He tipped the balance when he traced his fingertips down her neck and admitted openly, "I was in agony every time you stepped out of that door with that market boy and you make my day just by staying by my side. Every time you run from me when I touch you, it strikes my heart to know I can't draw you near-"

"Because you're _not_ supposed to . . . but I wish you could" she whispered sullenly because she did want to be in his arms and frolic like all canon love interests that were lucky to earn that right. She wanted to love him through his best and worst moments to show that he mattered dearly to someone. Her fingers wrung the front of his tunic as she wished to tell him everything that dwelled in her heart but it would only worsen their situation. She was meant to admire him from afar and shook her head to sigh softly, "I . . . you know this can't end well-"

"Ask me to stay the night" he intervened as he held her close in one last brave attempt at her heart- at least, temporarily. The storm had proved a lucky break for him to nab a private moment with the woman he cared for and he would exhaust his voice until she agreed. It was a battle of wills but he was notoriously stubborn to win at all costs. However, he wouldn't lower himself to begging to pressure her into anything intimate and stated clearly, "I will never ask you again but I don't want feigned attention out of pity."

"You know why I hold back, if your path wasn't cemented-" she began shrewdly and saw his questioning stare in the candlelight's glow for the answer. Her voice trailed off as she verbally cornered herself and her hold on his tunic weakened as she took a long sigh. The howling wind and night were already covering their tracks to remain inconspicuous so she might as well be truthful for once. She allowed one piece of truth to slip from her lips as she mumbled sheepishly under her breath, "I would more than likely never walk again or see the light out of this bedroom."

The answer both surprised and pleased him to hear after endless 'no, this' and 'no, that' in regards to his feelings. It set his gnawing fears to rest about her attraction being physical for his sake and he managed a modest smile to joke lightly, "Well, I'm pretty certain you'd walk _eventually_."

She chuckled softly as his sense of humor rose only at her side and she asked tentatively, "Will . . . will you stay with me?"

"I'd be delighted to" he accepted sincerely without regret and assured her everything would be fine when he felt her arms shake. She was nervous to cave to his wishes but he could only reassure her everything would be fine. Why wouldn't he give her anything but a caring touch? A soft kiss to her temple eased her trembling somewhat and he smiled when her lips touched his chin to return the gesture. He felt the timidity behind it and held her closer to sooth her with a whisper, "Cast your fears aside and trust me."

"I do and that's what frightens me because each step towards you . . . hearts are very fragile things, Altaïr" she replied weakly about the effects that would leave because she had a photographic memory. Everything that would come to pass would not be erased and they would have to live with it.

"I assure you that my intentions are nothing but genuine" he insisted to banish any fear on her part but he could see that wasn't the problem. She feared having her own heart broken in the aftermath and he saw it clearly for the first time. They shared such a rare friendship and risking a fracture in it for a night of passion would devastate them. It was why she was fiercely against him to maintain that level of respect but he wanted her to know how much he treasured her. He thought of her whenever she wasn't by his side and his day couldn't begin without greeting her. His supposed future was unimportant because she became his sole focus for the night and reassured her, "Vivian, we will walk this road together and whatever happens in Madagascar. . ."

She pulled him into a kiss to silence the rest of his words to numb the inevitable parting and murmured, "Forget the past and the future then. It will only make things worse in the long run."

He heard the pleading undertone in her voice as she asked to abandon everything for that moment. It was what he'd asked for and she'd allowed it; nothing else would interfere. His kiss deepened as she leaned into the warm embrace, wrapping her blanket around his shoulders to share the comfort. He'd heard her constant reminders about body warmth and hers was more than inviting in the cold room. Since Malik was sleeping like a bear in hibernation, there was no constant vigilance over his actions and Altaïr didn't hesitate to grasp her hips to mold them against his own. The tunic was her only layer and it was large enough that he could outline her form- why was she wearing a man's tunic? He'd given her fabric numerous times- forget it! He wasn't there to focus on her attire but the petite woman swimming within it. Her breath tickled his upper lip as he parted them to offer her an open mouth kiss, declaring a valiant success when she allowed it. He explored every crevice like a treasure cove, his tongue dancing alongside hers in a slow kiss since time was not a factor.

She would not fight him that night and said nothing more, allowing him to lead their amorous dance.

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**A/N**: Alas, they reach the tip of the iceberg in their yes-no relationship because Altaïr is no quitter. Apparently, little Darim carries that as well with his adorableness. We can expect to see Vivian keeping up a stronger defense to her feelings now that they'll be leaving because a boat is an even tinier space. I can safely say Altaïr will not be a happy camper for the first water travel for over a month and it won't be easy on his sensitive aquaphobic stomach. I'll have the next chapter posted after I post the continuing excerpt of this chapter, which I hope won't be too long but I've had an added caseload in my new nursing class (in which I aced my first to keep that awesome 4.0). I cannot express how much it makes my day to make my patients smile and it is an honor to care for the veterans (and active soldiers) of my country.

And for the first time, I have a flaming reviewer and I'm sure all of you can see the numerous comments on the story. Out of hundreds of reviews, it was only inevitable, right? Still, it doesn't deter me because I'll keep writing for my readers but it encourages to research more. One thing that I do disagree with is that Vivian has always worn clothing to fit the female population of the lands she travels to and I've never had her make offending comments to anyone's religion (she's an optimistic character, not spiteful). Was something written that was wrongfully misinterpreted? That's not the type of character she is at all, especially not in current chapters. I find it rather peculiar that instead of writing one comment and simply never clicking the 'next' button to ignore the story completely, they continue. I guess beating a dead horse isn't enough? Either way, I don't make my story to be everyone's cup of tea because we all have our different tastes. I'm sure there's plenty of other stories with more interesting characters in the fandom that have the reviewer's taste and again, this is fanfiction- you're perfectly free and capable to choose to read what you want. That's all I will say without resorting to the use of expletives (I've never shuddered so much at reading the word rape) and will thank those reviewers that haven't.

Oh, and thank you for the new alerts and favorites from the past weeks because I do appreciate it.

_Dolce Latte van Crème_: Vivian's a flustered little ladybug now that Altaïr's made his intentions clear and its hilarious after hearing her use so much lecherous lingo about his life. Malik and Vivian will return to their sister-bro dynamics again once they leave Madagascar since they've always had their little chats. It's really interesting to see how the story will flow because this is the point in my outline that really begins to define all of their bonds and how strong they really are because they will be tested.

_Keely_: Vivian's definitely been a reluctant one but we saw her slowly break in this chapter, especially now that she knows her days are limited. I'm glad you were excited for their first kisses since Altaïr savored the victory too. Lol. Now the two will be spending their little smexy time to prove that affection- leave it to a thunderstorm to bring the two little hurricanes together.

_storyreader900_: Thank you for reading all of it! I love you guys as much as you do my writing.

_Anna_: The sound the Pillsbury Doughboy makes reminds me of Vivian's peppy personality for some odd reason. I found it even funnier when we used him in our physical assessment class as an example when a patient has water retention and again, I thought of quirky Vivian.

_Manaxsavior_: Thank you for loving the chapter, I'm glad I paced it precisely well. I didn't want Altaïr chasing her forever because he's always been a straightforward man, even with the new emotions. He'll keep climbing each stair as his affection for her deepens further and since he's always asked Vivian for help in that domain, it won't take long for her to fall down with him on that ladder.

_girl falcona_: I love all my reviewers so never be afraid to post to voice your thoughts to me. Thank you for rereading the story numerous times because I always have the knack to correct earlier chapters but with life demanding a lot of me nowadays, it doesn't offer me the time. Enjoy the story and I will update as soon as I can again.

_PicoDulce_: I could never find anyone stupid (it's such a nasty word for fellow human beings) so never be afraid to speak your mind because I like hearing from international readers. I'm glad you like the pacing of the story and since it is AU, I'm trying my best to keep the timeline intact. Both Altaïr and Vivian have been on a slow road to being mellow but it's a good change compared to the beginning. The world is pretty much theirs to explore right now on their journey as Malik maps everything and the other two write down memorable entries. I will do my best to be consistent with updating once or twice a month but until December, I'll be piled under 35 pounds (15.9kg) worth of books. Thank you for reviewing the story and you did just fine with your writing so don't worry.

_RandomCitizen_: 'his ol' pal Assa-what's his face'- this comment made me laugh so hard after reading it, I loved it! Were you referring to Abbas by any chance?

* * *

**Next Time**: _On the Road Again to Madagascar_

The day arrived for the trio to bid farewell to the port they'd called home for the past two months and board the ship to Madagascar. For the assassins' comfort, Altaïr chartered an Arab boat for easier communication that would drive them along the Indian Ocean's trading route to the island. There were scarcely any ports on the island due to the lack of exploration into its depths so the trek to the next site would be a long one. The good thing was that trade existed on the coast between African and Arab merchants so they would hopefully find a route to the southern tip of Africa. Altaïr would've rather fast-forwarded the entire thing because he hated the thought of being onboard a ship due to his motion sickness tendency. The canoe down the Nile had been bad enough and he could only imagine how he would fare now.

Altaïr tightened his grip over the strap of his pack as he stepped onto the bridging platform warily. In a brief second, he allowed himself to peek at the sparkling ocean and reeled back a second later to declare uneasily, "I cannot do it. The vile sea dizzies me already."

Malik didn't encourage his dramatics because his friend could swim now and flatly stated, "We haven't even touched the ship or left the dock, it's illogical. Hurry up and get on, you're holding up the line."

"You just want me to fail, don't you?" he shot back snippily because he wanted to prolong stepping into a possible watery tomb. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have celebrated their departure now that he knew what awaited him. He stood upright with his shoulders straight as he purposely kept up the line this time and stated, "It's been your lifelong dream."

"Yes, I've wasted years of my life just to see that" Malik scoffed with a smile to his indignant squawking and nudged him from behind to force him forward. Altaïr wasn't easily deterred until he put in his last word and Vivian hoped that the two wouldn't be putting up a show. Bodies of water unnerved Altaïr and he needed time to adjust to it before jumping headfirst. When he didn't receive that, he tended to argue until he was blue in the face but she hoped it wouldn't happen in public. The dai pressed his palm against the man's back as the line began to grow and pointed out quickly, "Don't be so arrogant, now get up there."

"Don't be so . . . damn it" he muttered as he ran out of steam to continue and abdicated the argument to his friend. If he couldn't win it with a last minute word, he automatically lost. He couldn't linger forever against boarding because time was ticking and the sooner they sailed, the faster they'd cover distance. Walking up the thin flat plank, he ignored the light ominous shake as it connected the dock to the boat and quickly hopped onboard. He didn't even bother looking at the merciless water and the creaking of the hardwood floor under his boots comforted him immensely.

Vivian and Malik followed at a normal pace since they carried no fear of the water but said nothing more of it. Altaïr already knew of Vivian's fear of fat large insects but the dai had yet to show fear of anything. Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he'd been afraid for comedic purposes? Vivian snapped him out of his mayhem seeking daze when she squeezed his shoulder supportively to remind him they'd be there for him.

"I'll be here for you every step of the way, just like I'll need you to squish fat spiders for me" she promised with a comforting smile since they all had a fear for something. Hers just happened to be creepy insects and arachnids that she couldn't expose herself to for longer than a minute while he feared water. Just as she'd helped him learn to swim, he had begun to bring her fat nonvenomous spiders to show there was nothing to fear from them. Well, unless they happened to carry venom.

Altaïr never saw the woman move faster as she waved goodbye to the small group of acquaintances that had come to bid them adieu and told them she'd be getting Zevran. She had told him the end of Zevran's story would be a departure from Quelimane towards Egypt as the man decided to become a spice merchant. It had been the easiest story to believe but harder than just killing him off in a freak accident. It meant playing two characters at once because she'd have a small window of time to switch between outfits. Three minutes later brought the final performance of the man as Vivian declared that her meek sister self was too heartbroken to resurface before blowing kisses to the crowd. Malik waved goodbye to his coworker friends who came by to show their support while Altaïr only had a goodbye wave from their inn couple for his work around the house.

He quickly scrambled below deck to lick his wounds for lacking popularity.

He found Vivian in the only room which served to hold baggage for travelers (if they were trustful enough to leave their belongings) as he opened the door to store his travel pack. By store, he meant ripping pieces of wood panels on the wall to make his own secret compartment before anyone realized it. It was a safety measure for him when he couldn't carry his belongings constantly during his wanderings on a boat. He'd never been caught once nor did he plan on stopping his secret modifications. Instead, he caught Vivian changing as she switched from Zevran's tunic to her feminine gray robe and she exclaimed with embarassment, "Get out! Occupied!"

"You don't own a public room" he argued quickly but she shut the door in his face before he could illegally alter the boat. Really, she was out of her mind sometimes . . . and it wasn't like he hadn't seen her nude before. It was more important for him to hide away his belongings before anyone caught him doing so. Saving the world was far more important than temporary modesty.

Malik joined him a minute later below deck as he came to assess the living area they would have to eat, sleep, and sit on for the next long weeks. He had never been a fan of boats due to the lack of privacy but he did agree that they were fast for travel. Altaïr remained rooted by the door because he would be next in there and would lock it to ensure privacy for his alterations. Malik merely looked to him for deliberation for his new lookout posting and the assassin informed him simply, "There's a furious badger in there."

The dai merely quirked an eyebrow because the situation could be interpreted in several contexts and asked carefully, "Did you happen to lock in that badger?"

"No, why do you assume I had a hand in it?" Altaïr questioned indignantly because he'd been on good behavior the past two months with her. If he did happen to lock her somewhere, he'd let her out eventually. The cycle would try to repeat itself with Vivian trying to redeem that embarrassment but he'd foil her plans like usual. By the end of the day, they would be laughing and sharing a drink while planning their outings for the next day. Life had become peacefully simple in Quelimane and he was grateful for that moment of respite.

"You two tend to revolve around each other in the oddest of ways" Malik replied with humor since the two were enough to give him parenting expertise for a lifetime. He cherished his friends for giving him an interesting life but he didn't want them to build it to a point that would drive him insane. The boat they were traveling was already small so the two would have to be on cordial behavior now that they were in the public's eye. They were no longer shrouded by the privacy of the desert, forests, rivers, or inns so they would have to tone it down considerably for the first time. He looked between the closed door and Altaïr to run a hand through his raven hair and sighed, "By the time we finish this journey, I'll be praying thanks if I don't turn gray."

"Hair doesn't work that way, it . . . well, something scientific happens, I'm sure" he disagreed as he tried to find tangible evidence in his mind but failed. The only worry in his mind regarding old age was the elasticity and stamina in his body because assassins depended on it. Otherwise, an assassin with the speed of a turtle would not bode well and Altaïr had never been the type to stay in one place. He enjoyed exploring the diversity of the world and enriching his life with new knowledge along the way. He leaned against the doorway since Vivian was scrupulous about maintaining a modest appearance and stated with mirth, "Otherwise, mine would be white by now after the early shenanigans Vivian put me through."

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_Thank you for reading and your support so have a safe day out there in the world or good sleep (as will be my case- I love not waking at 4am on weekends)._


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